


Honey-Trapped

by lady emebalia (emebalia)



Series: Honey [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Not Hunters, Creature Sam, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Past Kidnapping, Unrelated Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, past dub-con, past sexual slavery, thoughts/talk about abuse and rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-08
Updated: 2015-10-24
Packaged: 2018-04-08 08:29:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 30,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4297770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emebalia/pseuds/lady%20emebalia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bobby visits Dean for the first time after the events of  “Wrapped in Honey”.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is settled between the last chapter and the epilog of "Wrapped in Honey". This first chapter is basically a recap of that story from Bobby's POV. So yes, you have to read "Wrapped in Honey" to understand this one.

Bobby wasn't worried when Dean didn't show up when he'd said he would show up. Not that Dean had set an exact date to begin with. As far as Bobby knew Dean had to travel through half the country to get to Sioux Falls and the last time they spoke on the phone Dean hadn't said anything indicating that he was in trouble or in any rush to get anywhere.

So Bobby made sure to stock up on Dean's favorite food and beer, not that he didn't have that in stock anyway, and didn't think twice about it when Dean didn't show up.

The times when Dean stood on his doorstep in the middle of the night without food and sleep for days and only enough gas in the tank to get himself to Bobby, those where the times Bobby worried.

Or the times Dean when called from a holding cell. Those were rare but it happened. Dean had never served time but he had his fair share of holding cells.

He did try to call Dean the next day, though. A computer voice informed him that the number he'd called was invalid. He tried again, making sure he had the right number, and then once more with the same result.

Now he did start to worry. He tried Dean's email next but didn't get an answer. And with that he was out of options to contact Dean.

Bobby had a rough idea where Dean had been over a week ago, when he'd called to tell him that he would swing by for a visit, but that didn't tell him where Dean was now. Or even when he'd fallen off the grid.

After two days of worry he was close to calling Sheriff Mills even if he didn't know what she could do to help him finding Dean but her chances were better than his, he guessed.

He thought about filing a missing person report, painfully aware of the fact that he was the only person who would even notice if Dean went missing.

But before he could do that, Dean called.

"Dean, boy, where are you?" He asked, trying to not show his relief when he heard Dean's voice. "I'm waiting for you to show up for two days now. No call, no nothing." He didn't mention the dead phone, waiting for Dean to give him an explanation.

"Yeah, Bobby, I'm sorry about that." Dean said and Bobby couldn't make sense out of his tone. Something was wrong. "Listen, something came up. I won't make it to you any time soon."

When Dean asked him to bring his car home, Bobby knew that Dean was in trouble, he would never leave his car behind willingly, but Dean refused to give him any details and hung up before Bobby could coax some answers out of him.

"Balls." He sat back in his chair, not sure what to do next.

Of course he went to get the Impala. He found her exactly where Dean had said he would and as far as he could tell she was fine, parked and locked with care, nothing indicating that Dean had been in a hurry or that anybody had tempered with her.

Bobby asked around in the bar and the diner nearby but nobody had seen Dean. He tried a few motels not too far away but it looked like Dean had been on his way through without stopping for the night. So Bobby just hooked up the Impala and towed her home.

Dean may forget to call or visit Bobby for months but he would never leave his baby for long so Bobby was pretty sure that Dean would show up rather sooner than later. Except that he didn't.

One short phone call to make sure that his baby was safe and then Bobby didn't hear anything from Dean for months. Dean had told him that might be the case so Bobby wasn't too worried but he couldn't help but think about all the different kinds of trouble Dean could be in.

Bobby wrote a few emails in the faint hope that Dean would answer, which he didn't for a long time.

When the answer finally came, it was nothing like what Bobby had expected.

Apparently Dean had met somebody, Sam, who he was living with now. And he'd started to build toy cars out of scrap. At first Dean made fun of the people who wanted to give him money for the scrap on wheels as he called it but it didn't take long to take a serious turn.

One day Dean sent him a link to a website called _Scrap on Wheels_.

"I'll be damned." Bobby had to lean back in his chair and take a minute to let the news sink in. He was on Dean's website, a professional one not some slap-it-together-yourself crap, and it was not what he'd expected. At all.

It did, however, remind him of that car Dean had built one summer. He remembered it clearly because he had been close to chasing John off his property with a shotgun when he'd made Dean destroy the car with a crowbar. Looking back he should have done just that, chase John off and take Dean in, but he'd been a coward.

He had refused to see the things right in front of his nose, the bruises, the haunted look in Dean's eyes. He had told himself that if he didn't say anything John would at least allow Dean to spend some time at the salvage yard. That this way Bobby could still offer Dean a safe haven, give him a breather from time to time.

If he'd known that John would finally snap and kill Dean's boyfriend, nearly killing Dean as well, he wouldn't have hesitated one second. But he hadn't known.

Bobby didn't want to go back to the three months he'd stayed at Dean's hospital bed, not knowing if the boy would wake up and if he did which state he would be in.

Instead Bobby focused on the cars on the website. He knew that Dean was handy but this was more than just some toy cars. This was art. He could clearly tell that the cars were built out of scrap but they had an aesthetic to them, he didn't even know where to start to describe it.

"Way to go, boy." Bobby said to himself and wiped his suddenly misty eyes. The cars and this Sam, looked like Dean had finally found his place in life.

After that Bobby and Dean exchanged emails almost daily. Dean still couldn't quite believe that people were willing to spend money on his cars but more and more orders were coming in, keeping him busy.

Then Dean called to let him know that John would get out of prison soon. Bobby didn't want to believe it at first, he'd dealt with Dean's paranoia when it came to John for years now, but apparently the source was a cop and the info was legit.

Bobby made sure to have his shotgun within reach at all times after that.

He didn't know where exactly Dean was and in this case it worked in their favor. If Bobby didn't know, John wouldn't know either. That was one piece of information Dean wasn't willing to share, one among many which made Bobby suspicious about a lot of things regarding Dean's situation but so far he had no reason to believe that Dean wasn't happy with whatever situation he was in so Bobby didn't push.

Then Dean told him that he would swing by for a visit and Bobby was looking forward to seeing Dean with a mixture of relief and anxiety.

There were too many things not adding up, too many things Dean didn't want to talk about. The reason why he'd disappeared in the first place for example.

Bobby hoped that he could get some answers out of him if he talked to Dean face to face without Sam hovering in the background. Dean had never said anything in that direction, but Bobby couldn't shake off the feeling that Sam was constantly reading over Dean's shoulder when they exchanged emails. It would explain why Dean never used to phone, too.

Maybe he was just paranoid after how things had gone down with John, but Bobby would rather be paranoid than to let Dean down again.

When Dean finally arrived, Bobby had to blink against suddenly misty eyes. Dean was home.

His first attempt to have a real talk with Dean, however, drove him right into a panic attack.

 _Way to go, idjit_ , Bobby thought to himself and backed off. Dean wanted to stay for about two weeks, they had plenty of time to talk.

Dean was still suffering from nightmares, Bobby found out. If it was about the same old stuff or something new he couldn't tell but Dean's broken cries in the middle of the night woke him up more than once. He'd never figured out how to comfort Dean during these nights so he didn't mention it and just had breakfast ready when Dean came downstairs in the morning.

When Dean finally did talk it was worse than everything Bobby had come up with on his own.

It turned out that Dean had been abducted and sold as some kind of sex slave.

Bobby was still busy wrapping his mind around that information that he didn't make the obvious connection to Sam right away. Instead he asked the stupid question of where Sam fit in this scenario.

Dean hadn't been living with Sam, he'd been held prisoner by him.

The fact that Sam had Dean on a long leash like a glorified pet just made it more horrible. Bobby didn't want to think about the things Dean had to do so Sam would let him build his cars. Or for basic things like food and clothes for that matter.

Bobby didn't throw up right away but it was a close call. He needed another drink.

It at least explained the nightmares.

"Why did he let you go, then?" Bobby asked because that was the one thing in this whole mess he couldn't make sense out of.

"Because he loves me." Was Dean's answer and Bobby just wanted to punch Sam in the face for that. That sick bastard had twisted Dean into believing that abuse and rape was love. It felt eerily familiar, not the rape part, John had never gone there, thank God, but the rest.

After Dean went to bed that night, Bobby couldn't help but check on him while he was sleeping.

Dean looked good, better than in a long time if he was honest. At least Sam had fed him and had supplied him with the daily necessaries. Bobby hadn't noticed any bruises before and didn't find any when he was looking for them now. He even lifted the blanket to have a look at Dean's ankles, almost expecting to find marks from shackles but didn't find any.

Dean hadn't gone into detail so Bobby didn't know how Sam had kept Dean from escaping in the beginning because Bobby was pretty sure that Dean had fought tooth and nail to get away from him.

Later, after Sam had twisted Dean into believing that it was love and that Dean deserved it and all that bullshit, it probably hadn't been necessary anymore to lock Dean up. That was the other reason why Bobby was itching for his shotgun. This was John all over again. Only worse.

Bobby spent the next two nights searching the internet for anything that would help him helping Dean because he didn't have a clue how to support a survivor of sexual abuse. It hurt to think of Dean in that term.

When Sam sent Bobby an email to tell him that John was free, and Sam even had the nerve to tell him to watch out for Dean, Bobby told him in clear terms to stay away from Dean. He wasn't stupid enough to give Sam an opening to get his cop friend involved by writing down the things he wanted to say but he promised himself that if Sam showed his face around Dean ever again, he would get a welcome with a shotgun.

Of course Sam didn't get the warning and used his chance while Bobby was fighting for his life after John had shot him to get close to Dean again.

When Bobby woke up in the hospital Sam was right there at Dean's side and didn't show any intention to leave ever again.

And then he wasn't even there when John came for Dean the second time. Oh, Sam was there afterwards, shielding Dean from the Sheriff and even Bobby with flimsy excuses. But he hadn't been there when Dean had needed him.

"Sleeping my ass." Bobby muttered after another fruitless call which only got him Sam. Dean had just shot his own father. He'd been suffering from nightmares before, no way was he just sleeping for days afterwards.

By now Bobby was close to discharging himself from the hospital but then the doctor gave him the good news that he could leave the next day. Reluctantly he agreed to stay that long but in another call he made it clear to Sam that he did expect Dean to pick him up. Which he did.

Dean looked tired and exhausted with dark smudges under his eyes but that was expected given the circumstances. Otherwise he looked fine.

Back home Bobby just wanted to throw Sam out but Dean made it perfectly clear that they were an item now. Bobby didn't want to make Dean choose between him and Sam, he doubted that he would like the result, so he grit his teeth and didn't say a word.

But he did make a point of telling Dean that his door would always be open for him and that he would have his shotgun ready just in case.

With mixed feelings Bobby let Dean leave with Sam a few days later but there was nothing he could do about it. He did, however, take Dean up on the offer to visit him.


	2. Chapter 2

Bobby wasn't sure what he had expected. Not this. But thinking about it, it made sense.

The industrial area with two times more abandoned buildings than ones still in use, the cement fence covered with graffiti, the gate.

This was a place where you could keep somebody prisoner without anybody noticing. Or caring.

Bobby drove through the open gate and made his way slowly up the driveway. The building coming in view used to be a factory of some kind, he noticed, a typical block of cement walls and industrial windows.

Bobby parked in front of it and got out of the car. He adjusted his hat and fought the urge to just find Dean, grab the boy and get him out of here. This place looked like a prison.

From the side he heard some noises and he followed them around the corner. He stepped through the open garage door, big enough for a truck, but stopped dead when he saw Dean.

The boy had his back to him so he hadn't noticed him right away and with the headphones on and working with a blowtorch he wouldn't any time soon.

"Dean!" Bobby raised his voice and stepped closer to get in Dean's field of view. He didn't want to startle him, that could end badly with the blowtorch.

Stepping closer didn't help identifying the chunk of metal Dean was working on and Bobby couldn't help but wonder what Dean saw in this old and rusty piece of junk. He probably saw a part that would fit in the car he was working on. Like a sculptor who saw a statue hiding in a block of marble or something like that. Bobby wasn't an artist. He adjusted his hat.

"Dean!" Bobby tried again, carefully staying out of the blowtorch's reach.

"Bobby." Dean finally noticed him and flashed him a grin. His face was covered with sweat and grime except for the part that had been covered by the safety glasses he now took off. It gave him a raccoon-ish look which took years off him. For a second Bobby saw the boy who had spent his childhood summers with him. Dean had almost been happy during those summers.

He looked happy now.

Dean hadn't bothered to shave for a few days and it suited him. He looked good. Gone were the bags under his eyes, the lines of worry on his too young face and he didn't look so hollow and haunted anymore.

Bobby had noticed that before when Dean had visited him while he and Sam had taken some time off from each other, before the whole John fiasco, but if Bobby was honest, he hadn't been sure if that would last. Now that Dean was back with Sam.

"Didn't expect you so soon." Dean turned off the blowtorch and wiped his hands and face with a rag.

"Got lucky with the traffic." Bobby answered with a shrug. He didn't mention that he hadn't slept much last night and had an really early start.

It had been a few weeks since Dean had left with Sam and Bobby was eager to see how Dean was doing. In their almost daily phone calls and emails Dean never grew tired of telling him that he was fine, that he was happy with Sam but Bobby needed to see for himself.

Of course Dean knew what Bobby's opinion on Sam was and Bobby got that it was bothering Dean that he wasn't approving of his boyfriend. That was the main reason Dean had invited him so soon after John's funeral, so that Bobby could see with his own eyes what kind of man Sam was.

Bobby had his first reading session at Dean's hospital bed, not much else to do than to learn about what John had done to the boy and how to help him once he woke up. If he woke up. It had been three long months.

Bobby had his second reading session over the last few weeks, after he'd learned about Sam, and with the internet only one click way Bobby had learned a thing or two. He knew the signs he was looking for. He just wasn't sure what he would do if he found any. Or if he didn't.

"C'mon, I show you around." Dean put his tools away and gestured for Bobby to follow him.

Most of what Dean called the basement was in a state of chaos.

"Wait until it's finished." Dean promised with a dreamy smile. "I'm throwing out all the old stuff. New flooring, fresh paint on the walls and better lights. I want different stations for the different work steps. One or two storage rooms. It's gonna be awesome."

Dean showed him around, every room already designed in his mind, and Bobby couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm.

However, Dean didn't have much to say for what had been a large production hall. For now it seemed to be the dumping place for everything Dean had cleaned out of the other rooms.

"Lots of space in here." Bobby commented when Dean didn't offer any plans for this room.

"I'm not sure what to do with it yet." Dean said but the way he rubbed the back of his head and tried to stir Bobby out of the room told him that Dean had a pretty good idea what to do with the hall.

Bobby raised an eyebrow at him.

"Well, Sammy's complaining about all the cars sitting around I've built for fun." He admitted, not meeting Bobby's eye.

Holding his breath Bobby wondered what that meant, what conditions Sam had so he would tolerate the extra cars around. He knew all too well that abusers used guilt as a tool, John had been a master of that technique.

"I'm thinking about a showroom." Dean said it as if it was something to be ashamed of.

"A what?" Caught off guard Bobby gaped at him and Dean just shrank farther into himself.

"A showroom." He repeated almost shy. "You know, so people can come in and look at the cars. Buy them cheaper than the custom-made ones." He cleared his throat. "We're planning some kind of open house presentation in two weeks, Sam's idea, I still think it's stupid. But if it works out …" He ended the sentence with a gesture over the large, unused hall.

"Don't sell yourself short, boy." Bobby drew him into an one-armed hug and fought the urge to ruffle his hair.

Dean leaned into him for a moment.

"It's a great idea." Bobby reassure him and he meant it. For many reasons. But on the top of his head, and he felt almost guilty thinking it, was that Dean would have contact with other people than Sam. Isolation was another abuser tactic.

He gave Sam credit for coming up with the idea but he didn't let it allay his suspicion for two reasons: one, the showroom wasn't built yet and who knew if it would ever be and two, one good thing didn't outweigh all the bad things. Quite the opposite, this could easily be another tactic to keep Dean under Sam's control.

Bobby had watched John doing this to Dean for years without doing a damn thing to stop him. One boy was dead because of that and he'd almost lost Dean as well. A mistake he wouldn't make again.

"Let's go upstairs." Dean said.

They took the elevator to the upper floor.

"Nice place." Bobby whistled through his teeth at the sight of the large hall that covered almost the whole floor. "You could play baseball in here."

"Don't give me ideas." Dean let out a soft chuckle, a sound Bobby hadn't heard from him in a long time, and gestured to the bank of windows that took up a complete wall. "Those are expensive to replace."

"I bet."

"Feel free to look around." Dean offered and wiggled his dirty fingers. "I'll clean up real quick and then I'll show you your room." He headed up the stairs where Bobby guessed the bed- and bathrooms were.

"I hope my room has four walls." He muttered under his breath, walls seemed to be a rare sight around here.

The kitchen area, there was no other way to describe it, was large and open and after seeing Dean taking over his kitchen back home, Bobby could easily picture him in here.

There were dirty dishes and crumbs from a quick lunch on the counter and Bobby felt better at that sight. Dean wasn't afraid to leave it like this. The first truly good thing he'd seen so far.

What was a little out of place was the toy car on the fridge, though.

Bobby walked over to the living area, yes, he had to walk over there, this place was huge, and took in the luxurious chairs and couches and the entertainment equipment including a giant TV. Bobby couldn't help but smile, he knew Dean loved it.

Under the stairs he found shelves with books and DVDs. A reading corner. There was even a billiard table and a poker table. Bobby wondered how much of this had been Dean's idea.

And there were toy cars. Dean hadn't lied when he'd said that he was running out of space for them. So far Bobby had counted nine. Each of them a piece of art but he would have drawn the line using them as a paper weight.

Above him a door went and seconds later Dean came down the stairs. He had changed into clean jeans and a t-shirt that he filled out well. Gone were the times when he'd been borderline to being underweight. Regular meals and working with metal had done wonders to him.

Dean stopped in the middle of the stairs. "Come upstairs, I'll show you the rest."

The first door led to the master bedroom and Bobby only got a quick glance at the ridiculous big bed. This was meant for how many people?

The bed was laid out for two but Bobby couldn't help but wonder if there had been more people. Back when Sam just had bought Dean. He didn't want to think about it, about what Sam had done to Dean, but those thoughts tend to sneak up on him.

"And this is your room." Dean opened the next door and stepped aside to let Bobby into the room. "It used to be mine but yeah …" The grin on his face could only be described as lascivious and Bobby really didn't want to know what Dean was thinking of right now.

"Anyway, it's our guest room now." Dean shook himself out of his thoughts.

A simple bed, a nightstand, a walk-in closet and more of those industrial windows, simple but comfortable. Same for the bathroom.

"Looks great, thanks." Bobby's eyes fell on the door, automatically searching for the lock. The key was on the inside but he was pretty sure it hadn't been when this had been Dean's room.

"We can bring in your stuff later." Dean said. "I need to start dinner now, you want to help?"

"Sure." Bobby agreed easily. "Sam's at work?" So far he'd avoided to mention the other man but he intended to spent the next few days under his roof, he couldn't avoid the topic forever.

"Yeah, he should be home in about an hour." Dean answered and then added quietly: "He is a good man."

Bobby wanted to say that a good man wouldn't buy another man for his own pleasure. That a good man wouldn't even know where to buy a person. That a good man wouldn't hold another man prisoner. But he didn't say it. There was no point.

Dean wanted to stay with Sam. Because they loved each other.

There was nothing Bobby could say to that. All he could do was to keep his eyes open and his mouth shut and hope that Dean would come to senses before it was too late.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean had steak, baked potatoes with sour cream and salad on the menu. Bobby got the important task to wash the potatoes and wrap them in foil.

"You do all the cooking?" He asked just to do some small talk. Dean moved around the kitchen with an ease that spoke of practice. He didn't even have to look when he reached for a spoon from the drawer or a cutting board from one of the upper cupboards.

"Yep." Dean let the word pop. "Can't trust Sam in the kitchen. That guy can burn water."

He threw together some seasoning for the steaks but Bobby could tell that he was mulling over something. As if he wanted to say something but wasn't sure how to put it in words. Or if he should speak at all.

"Sam tried to make steak once." Dean finally said, eyes fixed on the herbs he was chopping for the sour cream. "On my second or third day here, can't remember." He paused, shoulders tense and almost desperately not looking at Bobby.

To make this easier for him, this was the first time Dean actually talked about what happened to him, Bobby pretended to be absorbed in washing the potatoes.

"Let me guess, he burned them to coal?" He asked, trying to keep his voice as even as possible.

Dean let out a shaky laugh. "Man, I'd been so afraid of him. I thought if I just breathed wrong …"

Bobby didn't say a word, giving Dean time to work through this. He wasn't sure if he was ready to hear what Sam had done or had threatened to do but if Dean was ready to talk about it, Bobby for sure would listen.

"Anyway." Dean took a deep breath and cleaned the knife to start on the salad. "Sam got steak, maybe he wanted to do something nice, I don't know. But he had these steaks and he was about to kill the poor cow a second time." He shook his head with an almost fond smile.

Bobby kept watching him out of the corner of his eye.

"What did you do?" He asked.

"I ripped the steak out of his hand and basically kicked him out of his own kitchen." Dean answered as if he still wasn't sure what had come over him back then. "Degraded him to potato duty." With the knife he pointed at the potato in Bobby's hand.

"What did Sam do then?" Bobby asked. _How did he punish you?_ Was the question in his mind but he didn't dare to ask that one.

"Enjoyed a good meal." Dean shrugged. "When I realized what I had done I thought he would punish me or bring me back or whatever. But he didn't. He never did."

Bobby got why Dean was telling him this, to prove that Sam wasn't that bad, but what he got out of this story was that Sam hadn't needed to punish Dean, just that he could had been enough.

And randomness was another good tactic to keep somebody on his toes. If you never knew what would tick your abuser off, you lived in constant fear. So maybe Sam did let the steak incident slide, it didn't prove anything.

Bobby didn't say any of that and just finished wrapping the potatoes. He did, however, wonder where Sam had _found_ Dean. Obviously a place Dean had been terrified to be brought back to. Where there still people out there like Dean? Was there still human trafficking going on?

Dean had refused to get the police involved and Bobby was sure that if he talked for example to Sheriff Mills Dean and Sam would just deny everything. And Bobby would lose Dean over it, that much he knew.

Despite his dark thoughts they worked in comfortable silence for a moment.

Before Bobby could come up with a neutral topic, the doors of the elevator opened and Sam stepped out of the car.

Dean claimed to love this man and for his benefit Bobby tried to be not too hostile but under the surface he just hated Sam.

The last, and only, time Bobby had seen him, Sam had been dressed casually and hadn't looked like much. Now Bobby took in the tailored suit with the crisp white shirt and the tasteful tie, the slicked back hair, shiny shoes and slim leather briefcase. He didn't quite remember what Sam did for a living, devil's advocate or something, but it did pay off well, that much was obvious now.

He looked good, Bobby had to give him that. He filled out the suit with confidence but his face was open and friendly. A man mothers would love to call their son-in-law. A man people later would say about: "But he's always been such a nice guy."

Sam's eyes fell on Bobby and his face lit up with a genuine smile.

"Good to see you again, sir." Sam stretched out his hand and Bobby took it just to be polite. Sam's handshake was strong but comfortable.

"Thanks for having me." Bobby answered, ignoring Dean's pointed look. He wasn't ready to let Sam off the _sir_ hook.

Sam gave him a sharp nod and let go of his hand.

"Hey." He greeted Dean and leaned in for a kiss. He was aiming for Dean's lips but at the last second Dean turned his head so that Sam only caught the corner of his mouth. His eyes went almost comically wide while Sam let his forehead rest against Dean's for a second.

"Sorry, I forgot." Sam mumbled so low that Bobby wasn't sure if he understood the words right. They didn't make sense, though. "I'm a bit tired."

"I fed you too well." Now Dean grinned, cupping the back of Sam's head. With every other couple a display of affection like this would be adorable but with their background it made Bobby sick.

"There's a reason we usually do that on a weekend." Sam dropped another cryptic line and gave Dean a quick peck on the cheek. At least he respected Dean's silent request for no kissing on the lips. "Do I have time to change?"

"As long as you don't fall asleep." Dean teased with a watchful eye on the steaks he'd just put in the pan.

"If I do, it's your fault." Sam pointed at him. "Ellen wasn't pleased that I almost dozed off in a meeting today."

"You were the one who said, better safe than sorry." Dean reminded him and shooed him out of the kitchen. "Hurry up, you have five minutes."

"What was that about?" Bobby watched Sam climbing up the stairs.

"He's just tired." Dean dismissed it but Bobby got the feeling that he was missing something here.

Sam was back a few minutes later, now wearing worn jeans and a t-shirt and even his hair fell more open down to his shoulders.

Over dinner it was mostly Dean who carried the conversation. He asked a lot of questions about Sioux Falls, about the people he hadn't seen in a while. Bobby knew that this was more to fill the silence with harmless small talk than anything else but he answered easily.

Sam threw in a few bits about his day at work but mostly he stayed quiet.

"I really did a number on you." Dean commented when Sam blinked wearily over the rim of his glass. "Or you're just a bottomless pit."

Sam glared at him and opened his mouth to say something but with a glance at Bobby he just snapped it shut again. The way Dean laughed at that he knew exactly what Sam had been about to say.

Bobby had no idea what they were talking about but now that Dean had pointed it out, Bobby noticed how tired Sam looked. Not worn out tired, not like he had a hard day at work tired, more like the tiredness one got after a good meal. And Dean had said something about feeding him. Maybe he was still full from breakfast and whatever lunch Dean had packed him?

However, Sam finished his steak and potato without struggling and even had room for a slice of apple pie with whipped cream Dean had for dessert.

After that Sam almost fell asleep at the table. Dean clearly found it amusing.

Sam did help cleaning up but then he excused himself and went to bed. It was only eight in the evening.

Bobby wasn't sure if he really was this tired or if it was just an excuse to stay away from him. Either way, Bobby was looking forward to an evening with Dean alone.

After a day in the car he was tired as well so when Dean suggested a quiet evening on the couch, watching a game, Bobby agreed easily.

"Beer?" Dean asked from the kitchen, head already in the fridge.

"Sure." Bobby fought the urge to shout. It wasn't that far from the couch where he was sitting to the kitchen.

Dean handed him his beer and then sat down in one of the chairs.

For a moment they just sat there, nursing their bottles, and Bobby didn't know what to do or say next.

"So." He started, drawing out the word. "Is Sam always like this in the evening? It's a bit early for bed time." He was a grown man, he shouldn't be in bed by eight.

Dean shook his head with a soft laugh.

"Only on special occasions." He answered with a glint in his eye.

Bobby got the feeling that he'd stumbled over an inside joke he just didn't understand. Probably one involving sex so he didn't want to know.

"Any plans for tomorrow?" Bobby changed the topic. Dean had invited him to stay for a few days but they hadn't planned anything yet. It was the middle of the week so Dean probably had some work to do.

"I was planning a trip to one of the scrap yards." Dean took another swig of beer. "The owner has offered to take all the stuff from the basement, I have to set up the details with him. You can come with."

"Sounds good." Bobby agreed. "Sam has work tomorrow?"

"He was considering taking a few days off for your visit." Dean said, eyes fixed on the bottle in his hand. "But he decided against it. Didn't want to interfere too much."

Dean reached for the remote and a moment later the TV came to life. It was much bigger than the old TV set Bobby had at home. Like everything else around here. He probably could fit his entire house in what Dean called the living room.

"Sam has quite some money." He observed.

"I make some money with the cars as well." Dean said stiffly. "I pay my share."

"I didn't mean to …" Bobby started but then realized that that was exactly what he'd meant. "I'm sorry." He faltered. "It's just …" He made a vague gesture.

"I know." Dean sighed but his expression softened. "Sam and I have started in the worst possible place, I know that. And it looks worse from the outside, I know that too. But we're good now."

He leaned back, head resting on the back of the couch.

"There are things I can't tell you." He said after a moment and on some level Bobby was glad about that. He was there for Dean, he would listen to whatever Dean wanted to talk about, but there were details he just didn't want to know.

On the other hand, a statement like that just cried for questions. Questions Bobby didn't ask. At least not at the moment.

"Just trust me with this, please." Dean said quietly.

Bobby watched him sitting there, laid-back and open, beer bottle in a loose grip on his knee. He looked happy.

"I'll try." Was all he could promise but it seemed to be enough for the moment. Dean gave him a smile and then turned his attention back to the TV.


	4. Chapter 4

It was a strange feeling, sleeping in the bed that used to be Dean's. Bobby lay there in the dark, tired to the bone, but he couldn't sleep. There were too many thoughts running through his head.

An almost full moon shone through the big window front and Bobby couldn't help but wonder why Dean hadn't just broken one of these windows and were gone.

That's what Bobby couldn't understand. Dean would have tried to escape, at least in the beginning.

The only reason Bobby could think of why Dean hadn't escaped was because he hadn't been able to. So if this had been Dean's room from the beginning and if he'd been free to move around the loft like he'd said, what had stopped him? Sam had been at work during the day, lots of time to come up with an escape plan.

Bobby shifted until he lay flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling. It was high above him but the moon was bright enough to see the steel beams holding this place together.

There were two possible explanations: One, this hadn't been Dean's room in the beginning, it had been some kind of upgrade for after Sam had broken him.

Some of the rooms in the basement had no window but they had a sturdy door. Bobby felt sick in the stomach at the thought of Dean frightened and alone in a dark room with Sam's _visits_ his only glimpse of light.

The second explanation Bobby could think of wasn't better. This had been Dean's room from the beginning but Sam had kept him physically in place. Shackles or drugs came to mind.

This was an issue Bobby hadn't stopped thinking about since Dean had told him about what had happened to him. Bobby had hoped to solve it once he saw this place himself but he wasn't closer to an explanation now than he had been before.

_Maybe I should just ask_ , Bobby mused.

But he didn't want to stress Dean more than he already did with his open contempt of Sam.

Dean loved Sam and was willing to forgive and forget but Bobby couldn't. People like that never changed.

It was way after midnight when Bobby drifted off to sleep.

When he woke up the next morning, the sun was high up the sky and Bobby needed a second to recall where he was.

It was almost ten by the time he came down the stairs and Bobby wasn't surprised to find Dean in the kitchen but no Sam. It was Friday, Sam had to work.

"Morning." Dean greeted him with a smile and a coffee. He had some paperwork spread out in front of him.

"Why didn't you wake me?" Bobby grumbled and took a sip. The expensive looking coffeemaker was worth every cent. Bobby closed his eyes for a second when the rich aroma of the coffee filled his mouth and nose. This was good.

"You looked like you needed some sleep." Dean shrugged. "No need to hurry anyway, we have time. Sam's the one who has to work by the clock."

"You get up with him every morning?" Bobby guessed, shamelessly fishing for information.

"Usually." He nodded, sharing easily. "We have breakfast together before he goes to his work and I go to mine." He gave Bobby a smirk over the rim of his cup. "Just because I don't work by the clock doesn't mean I don't have deadlines. People can get really pushy when something takes too long, especially people with money."

"Look at you, boy." Bobby raised his cup in a mock salute. "All Mister Business."

"Shut up." Dean shot back and hurried to gather his papers. "I kept some pancakes in the oven for you, if you like."

While Bobby ate his breakfast, Dean told him about his business. Bobby knew that Dean built toy cars, most of them custom-made, but he hadn't thought about all the work regarding to it. Dean showed him some sketches and then the notes of what the customer wanted to change or change back or what he'd forgotten to mention in the first place. Bobby had never thought that Dean could have such a patience with some stubborn idjit.

"I try to get as close to the customer's idea as possible." Dean pointed at the changes he had added to the sketch. "But in the end it's still my design."

"Are there any easy customers?" How somebody could get riled up over the curve of a fender was beyond him.

"There was this one woman." Dean's eyes became a bit dreamy. "Shortest and most awesome instruction ever: Your version of the Batmobile." He even made air-quotes for the last bit. "The pictures are in the next bunch that goes on the website, you should have a look at it."

"I will." Bobby promised.

After Bobby had finished his pancakes, they cleaned up the kitchen and then they left to visit the scrap yard guy Dean had mentioned.

Behind the wheel of his beloved Impala Dean looked like nothing bad had ever happened to him. He cranked up the radio when they played one of his favorite songs and he even sang along under his breath while he tapped the rhythm on his thigh.

Bobby sank deeper into his seat, relaxing for the first time since he had arrived. Or since Dean had told him. Or since he had his first suspicions about John. Bobby wasn't sure. He just knew that he'd never before seen Dean this carefree and happy.

Maybe he should grant Sam the benefit of a doubt.

"Don't let Barney scare you." Dean interrupted his thoughts when he pulled into the yard. "He looks like the lovechild of Frankenstein's Monster and Cousin Itt but he's a great guy."

Bobby raised an eyebrow at that description but when he saw the man stepping out of the office a second later he got what Dean meant. If he didn't know better he'd say that this man couldn't possibly be human.

"Barney, hey." Dean shook the man's hand and gave him a friendly clap on the shoulder. "This is a friend of mine, Bobby."

Barney's hand swallowed Bobby's as if it was a child's hand but he didn't crush it.

"Heard a few words about you." The man said and the corners of his mouth twitched as if there was a smile tucking on them.

"I don't talk about him that much." Dean muttered and ducked his head but Bobby noticed him blushing. "I only mentioned that you have a salvage yard and that I hung out there a lot as a kid." Dean hurried to explain but the way Barney shook his head, Bobby knew Dean had said a bit more than that. And he coulnd't deny the fuzzy feeling in his stomach at that thought.

"You want to have a look around first?" Barney asked. "I have a box of stuff you might be interested in over there." He nodded to the side of the building. "I'll be inside when you're ready."

He didn't even wait for Dean's "Thanks, man." and headed back inside.

"You come here often?" Bobby asked while he watched Barney turning a bit sideways to fit through the door.

"I get most of my stuff here." Dean started walking. "There are a few other places but I come here first. By now Barney knows what I'm looking for, I'm going to take whatever he's put in that box."

They made their way through the yard.

While Bobby only had old cars, Barney had everything from ovens over iron gates to broken door knobs. Most of it lay in piles, sorted by metal, just waiting to be sold by the ton.

Bobby half-expected Dean to climb the piles like he'd climbed stacks of dead cars back home when he'd been a teenager. It had given him heart-attacks and back then he'd at least known where the nearest hospital was.

But it looked like Dean had developed some sense of self preservation since then and didn't start to climb the piles of rusty metal with sharp edges.

When they finally came back to the office, Dean had his own little pile of scrap right next to the box Barney had prepared for him.

"About this other thing." Dean said when he'd paid for the scrap. "Do you have time sometime next week? I need to get the stuff out before this presentation thing." He made a face that told them clearly what he thought about that idea and Barney's mouth made that almost smile twitch again. Bobby kinda liked the guy.

They came up with a date and then Barney helped them putting all the stuff in the Impala.

He lifted the box as if it was nothing. His eyes fell on Bobby and he made a face as if he'd forgotten something important for a second but before Bobby could make sense out of it he'd walked off stiffly.

"He's a strong guy." Dean said and motioned for Bobby to help him with the rest. Bobby felt like he was missing something here but he couldn't put his finger on it.

Back at Sam's place, Bobby couldn't bring himself to think of it as Dean's home as well, he helped Dean unloading the car. Even together they struggled with the box Barney had carried alone but with a little effort they stored everything away.

After that they went back upstairs for a well-earned beer.

"This Barney is quite a character." Bobby observed.

"He is." Dean agreed with a smile half-hidden behind the neck of his beer.

"You know more strange people around here?"

"A few." Came Dean's cryptic answer with a smile as if Bobby was missing a joke again.

But it was good to know that Dean had other contacts than Sam.

Back in Sioux Falls Dean hadn't been the most social person. He had been quite familiar with the bars where he had found more beer and hard liquor than it was good for him and hook-ups for one night when he felt like it. And of course there was Sheriff Mills who had plucked him off the places he'd been too young to visit. Other than that Dean had kept to himself.

He had left at the age of eighteen and as far as Bobby knew Dean had never stayed in one place long enough for somebody to remember his name.

And here was Barney who didn't even know Dean's name but also knew him well enough to know what he was looking for and to have a box full of it ready for him.

Dean was putting down roots here.

For a late lunch they had some quick sandwiches and after that Dean almost hesitantly asked if it was okay to leave Bobby to himself for a bit. He wanted to get some work done before Sam came home.

"You don't have to babysit me." Bobby rolled his eyes at him. "Go to work, I'm going to read for a bit."

"Great. There is this bar and grill Sammy and I like to go to, how about dinner there. Some beers and a game of pool later?" He looked hopeful.

"Sure, why not?" Bobby agreed. An evening in public with Sam would probably turn out less homicidal than staying home.

Bobby waited until he was sure that Dean was working before he went upstairs. At the door of Sam and Dean's bedroom he hesitated for a second but then he opened it. He wasn't sure what he was hoping to find but he needed to take a look.

Dean's half of the closet was the more messy one while Sam sorted even his underwear by color. A pair of pink briefs was the most scandalous thing he found in the closet and the rest of the bedroom was pretty ordinary as well.

Except for the bed which was bigger than normal and the chest full of sex toys right at the end of it.

"That's what you get for snooping around, idjit." Bobby muttered and closed the chest.


	5. Chapter 5

When Sam came home this time he actually looked awake. Tired and in need of the weekend after a long week but he didn't seem to be in danger of falling asleep walking.

Dean threw Sam a concerned look when he informed him about the plans for the evening and for a moment Bobby was sure that Sam would back out and rather spend the evening alone on the couch. Not that Bobby would mind.

"Sounds good." Sam agreed with a quick peck on the corner of Dean's mouth. "Just need to fresh up a little."

"Me too." Dean murmured, wiggling his greasy fingers.

Sam and Dean both went upstairs for a shower, which they took separately, Bobby noticed and for which he was grateful.

Sam was the first back downstairs and for long awkward minutes Bobby sat across him at the kitchen table with no idea what to say. Oh, he had pretty good ideas of what to say but that would only end with Dean kicking him out, out of this place, out of his life, so Bobby kept his mouth shut and settled for a silent glare.

Sam squirmed under his stare and didn't meet his eyes. Bobby counted that as a win.

"I know you don't like me." Sam finally said while upstairs the shower was still running. "But I would never hurt Dean."

"Pretty sure you did, boy." Bobby huffed. He hadn't wanted to go there, not now.

"I know." Sam sighed, fingers tracing the lines of the wood in front of him. "And I regret it. I was stupid and naive and I've no idea why Dean didn't run from me when he had the chance." He paused and now he lifted his eyes off the table and looked straight at Bobby. "I'm grateful for that. That he still wants to be with me."

Bobby tried to find the lie in his words but Sam's face was open and sincere. He meant what he said. Or he was a really good liar.

"I'm not a fan of the if-you-hurt-him-speech." Bobby ran a hand over his beard. "It would just say that I don't trust Dean to decide for himself. But in this case …" Bobby made a vague gesture at Sam.

"You're not sure if Dean can decide for himself." Sam finished the sentence for him. "You know, sometimes I wonder the same." He was back at staring down at his hands on the table. "Sometimes I wonder if I haven't stockholmed him into this."

Taken aback Bobby gaped at him. This was the last thing he'd expected coming from Sam.

"I sent him to you to sort this out and he came back." Sam gave him a weak smile. "But with his father coming for him and you in the hospital, he didn't have anybody else than me to turn to. So yeah, sometimes I wonder."

"You can stop with that." Suddenly Dean's voice came from above. Bobby looked up and found Dean standing on the gallery, leaning on the banister. "I want to be with you, Sam. Out of my own free will. So stop worrying, both of you. Jeez." He shook his head and then came pounding down the stairs. He went straight for Sam, caught him in a bear hug and buried his face in the crook of his neck.

After a second of hesitation Sam hugged him back with one hand firmly between his shoulder blades and with the other one cupping the back of Dean's head. There was still water dripping from his hair and his shirt clung to his body as if he hadn't taken the time to towel off properly.

He'd most likely been worried that Sam and Bobby would kill each other if he left them alone for too long. Which wasn't that far off, if Bobby was honest.

"I love you, you idiot." Dean said into Sam's skin and Bobby desperately looked everywhere but them. At least they hadn't their tongues down each other's throat. Yet.

Dean's face was hidden but Bobby caught the expressions flashing over Sam's. It was hard staying angry at him at that sight. He looked as if he couldn't quite believe that he had Dean in his arms.

"I'm starving." Dean announced without letting go of Sam. He did just give them enough space to look Sam in the eye. "Are you ready to head out?" He half-turned towards Bobby to include him in the question as well.

A minute later they sat in the Impala and the rest of the tension between them was blasted away by Dean's music. From his seat in the back Bobby had a good view on both of them. They weren't holding hands, didn't even look at each other and with the loud music talking wasn't an option either. They just sat there, Dean focused on driving and Sam looking out of the window, but they were both at ease. Their posture was relaxed and open and Bobby almost felt like an intruder.

It was a short ride to the place Dean had in mind.

Bobby took in the typical bar, he'd been at places like this with Dean before. Pick-ups and bikes filled the parking lot along with cars at least a decade old. There were some neons missing in the sign over the door. It was not a place he would have expected to see Sam at. Too down to earth for Sam.

"When we first came here we had some trouble with some homophobic assholes." Dean said on his way to the entrance. He and Sam shared a glance which Bobby couldn't make sense out of. There was some backstory here, that much was clear, but he couldn't even decipher if it was a fond memory or a horrible one.

"It's sorted out now." Sam said in a tone that sent chills down Bobby's spine.

The waitress who led them to a table in the corner greeted Sam and Dean by name so they had been here often enough to count as regulars. She had a curious eye on Bobby but didn't say a word about him.

Dean didn't even look a the menu before he ordered a double bacon cheeseburger with extra onions. Bobby ordered the same minus the onions, if he could trust anything than it was Dean's taste in burgers.

The waitress, her name tag read _Stacy_ , didn't even write it down and left to get their drinks without asking Sam what he wanted to eat. It seemed kinda rude but Bobby got the feeling that this was some kind of ritual grown from experience.

While she was gone, Sam actually studied the menu, pondering his options.

When Stacy came back with their drinks, Dean leaned in to Bobby and whispered: "Pepper steak with ranch potatoes and a small salad."

Sure enough that was exactly what Sam ordered a second later. Stacy didn't write it down either and just rolled her eyes at him.

"Every single time." Dean said loud enough for Sam to hear. Sam looked like he wanted to stick his tongue out but decided against it. Shaking his head Dean reached for his beer and they let the glasses clunk together.

The burger was as good as expected and not long after Bobby leaned back in his seat with a satisfied grunt. He let Sam and Dean carry most of the conversation while he listened.

It was obvious that Sam tried to show off his best behavior but after a while he relaxed, showing more of the real Sam. Who seemed to be a nice guy.

Dean was just Dean, however, it had been a long time since Bobby had seen him this animated. He was telling a story about a girl he'd met once, something about smoking pot and an angry father, and Sam convulsed in a full body laugh when Dean described his butt naked escape through the second story window.

Bobby was mostly busy dodging Dean's wide gestures while he told the story but even he couldn't help but laugh at that mental image. Only Dean.

"That reminds me." Sam picked up the conversation when he could breathe again. "Have I ever told you about Gwendolyn?"

Apparently he hadn't and the way Dean sat there in awe and took in every word, Sam usually didn't share stories like this.

Turned out, unlike Dean, Sam wasn't into women at all and Gwendolyn hadn't been interested in men. They had great discussions about Jules Verne, though.

However, her family and friends were a little conservative and never got the message. They constantly tried to hook her up with a man. Until one day she snapped and told them that she was with Sam. That's how Sam ended up at the wedding of Gwendolyn's sister as Gwendolyn's boyfriend.

"And then Gwen caught the bridal bouquet." Sam groaned. "Her family wanted to set a date for our wedding right then and there."

Bobby snorted into his beer while Dean nearly choked on his.

"Hope you could clear that up before they bought the rings." Bobby said with more fondness in his voice than intended.

"We kept the charade up for a while." Sam said with distant eyes. "People were less open minded back then."

"Are you still in contact with her?" Dean asked.

"No." Sam shook his head in sudden sadness. "That has been years ago. She died a while back."

Uncomfortable silence fell over the table, neither Bobby nor Dean knew what to say to that. There was nothing they could say. However, there was something in Dean's expression as if he got more out of Sam's words than the obvious meaning.

They were saved by Stacy and a fresh round of beer and then they went over to the pool tables for a little game.

Sam was a decent player but it was obvious that he'd never played for a living. Bobby knew that for Dean it more often than not had been "be good or be hungry" and he wiped the floor with them. Dean basically destroyed Sam but had to put more effort into defeating Bobby. Then Bobby and Sam tried a game which Bobby won without too much trouble. He may enjoyed that a little more than he should.

What really lightened Bobby's mood was that Dean didn't pamper Sam. He didn't try to let him win or even let it look like Sam had a chance. And while Sam and Bobby were playing Dean stood next to them, beer in hand and a constant teasing on his lips. Sam took it with a smile.

It was late when they left the bar and Sam and Dean were both too tipsy to drive. Bobby had held back all evening, figuring that at least one of them should keep a clear mind, so he drove them home.

He knew that Dean was either a happy drunk or a depressed sobbing in his glass one, depending on his mood, but today he was a happy one. He laughed loud and with his mouth open, leaning heavily on an equally intoxicated Sam.

Bobby had been worried that Sam would turn out as an angry drunk, that was the main reason he'd stayed sober, but so far the alcohol had only managed to turn him into an overgrown puppy who had no idea what to do with his limbs. The only thing Dean had to dodge were sloppy kisses.

By the time they reached Sam's place, both of them had sobered up enough to get ready for bed without being in danger of falling down the stairs or choking on their toothbrush.

Bobby wished them a good night and then turned in as well. The evening had been fun, he had to admit. Sam had actually surprised him with the objective view he had on his relationship with Dean. And with his whole behavior over the evening.

Still wondering how this Sam could be the same man who had bought Dean for his own amusement, Bobby drifted off to sleep.

He woke to a scream.


	6. Chapter 6

Bobby was out of the bed and through the door before is brain even realized what had woken him up.

A scream.

Dean's scream.

On the gallery, hand already reached out for the door separating him from Dean, Bobby stopped. Like he always stopped. He knew this kind of scream, that wounded sound Dean only let out when sleep stripped him off his self-control, when it took away his bravado he kept up to hide the scared boy beneath.

Dean never wanted to be seen like this.

At first, when Dean had moved in with him, Bobby had tried to comfort him during nights like this but it never went well. Bobby's presence alone, seeing him like that, vulnerable and still too tied up in the nightmare to hide how lost he was, only made it worse.

So Bobby did what he always did when he heard Dean screaming his way out of a nightmare, he hovered at the door, ear almost pressed against it, waiting for Dean to settle down again.

This time, however, Dean wasn't alone. Sam was with him and he had woken up, too.

"You okay?" Bobby heard Sam's low voice after a moment of silence.

"I'm good." Dean answered, his voice hoarse and sleep heavy and not sounding good at all.

There was some rustling and shifting like they were trying to find a more comfortable position.

"Going to that bar with Bobby might not have been the best idea." Sam said.

Bobby didn't know what he was referring to but Dean seemed to know what he was talking about.

"Brought back some memories." Dean sounded almost amused.

"I'm still surprised that you wanted to go back there in the first place."

"The burgers are good." Dean answered. "And that was not the first time I took a beating or got called names. It wasn't a big deal."

It didn't feel like that was the real problem with whatever Sam had been referring to but he didn't call Dean out on it.

There was so much Bobby didn't know about those months Dean had been at Sam's mercy. Whatever had happened at the bar, it had been bad enough to cause nightmares.

And there was the fact that Dean had shot his own father only a few weeks ago and John in general, more than enough stuff to give Dean nightmares. Bobby knew that his distrust in Sam didn't help the situation either.

He half expected Sam to ask what Dean's dream had been about.

Instead Sam said nothing.

"You did merry Gwendolyn, didn't you?" Dean changed the topic after a long pause. He'd never been a talker when it came to personal things like nightmares and feelings.

It took Bobby a second to remember the story Sam had told over dinner.

"It was safer. For both of us." Sam admitted easily. "It had been different times."

"Hmm."

"Her parents never stopped hoping for grandchildren, though." Sam added with a little laugh and Dean joined in. But it lasted only for a minute.

They fell into silence for a while and Bobby was about to go back to his own bed. It didn't seem like he was needed here. And it hurt just a little bit that Dean accepted Sam's comfort while he had always rejected Bobby's.

"Are you ready to go back to sleep?" Sam asked quietly.

"You kissed me." Dean said, his tone almost accusing.

That statement came out of nowhere and Bobby inched a bit closer to the door. If Sam did something Dean didn't want …

"It seems to help when you have a nightmare." Bobby could hear the shrug in his words.

"It does. But I usually don't wake up when you do it." Dean muttered. There was more rustling. "Are you going to do something about it?" Bobby knew that tone. There was usually a raised eyebrow involved.

"If you insist." Sam let out a soft chuckle. "Try to keep quiet, we don't want to wake Bobby."

Bobby was tempted to tell them that it was too late for that but Dean cut in with an almost terrified "God, no!" that ended in a gargled sound. It sounded suspiciously sexual.

"Fuck, Sam." Dean's voice was strangled.

There was a wet slurping and Bobby really didn't want to know what was causing that noise. He had a pretty good idea, though.

"We could do that instead." Sam offered with a smug grin. Bobby didn't need to see his face to know that it was there. "Or I just keep sucking you down to the root until you come in my throat. Or both, both would be good too. We can do both."

That was the moment when Bobby decided to return to his own bed before he would be the one suffering from nightmares.

"Of course you'd do both, you bottomless pit." Was the last thing Bobby heard before he closed his door and crawled back under the covers.

Looked like the comfort Dean needed after one of his nightmares was nothing Bobby could give him. That Sam was the one giving it to Dean still didn't sit right with him, though. But it was good to know that Dean wasn't lying there alone in the dark with nothing but his thoughts for company.

The building had large rooms with high ceilings and very little furniture in it. Walls were a rare sight and the ones that were there weren't exactly brick walls.

Sam and Dean seemed used to being alone with nobody around in at least a one mile radius.

Sound carried in the loft.

Sound amplified in the loft.

Bobby buried his head under the pillow to shut out the sex noises, wondering if it wouldn't be better for his sanity if he went downstairs to watch some TV. Loud.

He loved Dean like his own but there were things he didn't want to know about him. How he sounded when he came was one of those things.

In the last half an hour he'd heard him come twice. Sam too. He sounded more animalistic than Dean.

What was his life that he compared those noises?

And it didn't sound like they were done. Bobby tucked the pillow more firmly around his head.

How much stamina could one person have? Or both of them because they were both still participating. Bobby's mind tried to come up with pictures for the sounds he heard, wondering what exactly they were doing over there.

Then, with a breathless "Sam" followed by an equally breathless "Dean", they finally fell quiet.

Bobby held his breath for a moment, not trusting the sudden silence. He heard water running and the soft murmur of voices too low to understand. And then there was silence.

Bobby poked his head out from under the pillow. Everything was quiet.

He made himself more comfortable, head now on the pillow, but it took him a while until he found his way back to sleep.

At least Dean didn't seem to have any more nightmares that night.

In the morning when Bobby stood in the shower, he wondered if he should mention that he'd heard them or not. Mentioning it over breakfast would be awkward, especially since it was Saturday so Sam would be there as well, but not mentioning would bear the risk that it would happen again.

Still not sure what to do Bobby made his way down the stairs, following the rich aroma of the coffee. Damn, he needed on of those coffee makers at home.

Humming to himself Dean stood at the stove, preparing breakfast. Scrambled eggs and bacon, as far as Bobby could tell. Which was Dean's breakfast of choice whenever he could get away with it. The boy would did from a heart attack before he reached forty with that diet but at least it looked like Dean would reach forty so that was improvement, right?

With his drifter lifestyle, one night stands he'd picked up at questionable bars and his lack of any sense of self-preservation … Bobby had lived in fear of a nightly phone call telling him that they had found Dean's body for years.

Sam might not be the person Bobby wanted to see in Dean's life but at least his life had become stable with him.

"Morning." Dean greeted him with a grin when Bobby approached him. "Slept well?"

"About that." He scratched his beard, not sure how to phrase it. "Your bedroom is not as soundproof as you think."

Dean nearly choked on a piece of egg he'd snagged out of the pan while Bobby calmly walked over to the coffee maker to pour himself a cup.

When he turned around Dean was still spluttering, face red with embarrassment.

"You heard us?" Dean finally choked out.

"Hard not to." He answered before he realized that that probably wasn't the best way to phrase it but the way Dean's blush deepened, the tips of his ears were red now, it was totally worth it.

"Sam's still sleeping?" Bobby asked, enjoying this more than he should but after what he had to suffer through last night Dean deserved a little torture. And Bobby really didn't want to hear stuff like that again next night.

Rubbing the back of his head Dean turned away, pretending that the eggs needed his full attention.

"He gets tired after, you know." He made a vague gesture with the spatula. "And so soon after …" Dean stopped himself there, eyes wide as if he'd almost said something he didn't want to tell Bobby.

Presuming it was something sex related Bobby really didn't want to know.

By the time breakfast was ready, Sam had made his way downstairs as well. He was still in his sleepwear, sweats and a t-shirt, and his hair looked more like a rat's nest than anything else but he was too tired to care. Even after a coffee he still had trouble keeping his eyes open much to Dean's amusement.

There was one of those inside jokes hidden in there, Bobby was sure of that, but he didn't ask. He didn't think he would like the answer.

At least Sam was too tired to be embarrassed when Dean told him that there would be no more sex while Bobby stayed with them. Or he was just more casual about sex.

"You'll survive a few days without." Dean teased.

"If I have to." Sam muttered but he was half-asleep so there was no heat behind his words.

"You used to go for weeks without." Dean reminded him. Done with his breakfast he pushed the plate away and leaned back with his coffee in hand.

"Doesn't mean I like it." Sam grumbled and Dean burst out laughing.

Bobby sat between them, shaking his head.

_Idjits_ , he thought too fondly and hurried to hide his smile behind his cup.

"Any plans for today?" He changed the topic before Dean could come up with war stories of the horizontal kind. The boy could be a bit oversharing when it came to his sex life and after last night Bobby knew more about that than he ever wanted.

Sam's eyes drifted over to the couch with caused another burst of laughter from Dean.

"No, no." Dean snapped his fingers to get Sam's attention. "You said we should do some bonding stuff, show Bobby the city. Not my fault that you're too greedy for your own good."

Sam didn't look amused but he nodded and even gave Bobby a little smile.

His behavior reminded Bobby of his first day here. Sam had been tired like this then as well. The way Dean had talked about it, Bobby had assumed it was somehow food indicated. But seeing him now, tired out by a sex marathon, Bobby wasn't so sure about that anymore.

He didn't know sex coma was a thing but it explained a lot about Sam.

At least Dean found it highly amusing.


	7. Chapter 7

They didn't leave until early in the afternoon, though. Mainly for Sam's benefit who spent the morning on the couch, reading. Or so he claimed.

Bobby followed Dean downstairs where he made himself useful by sorting and cleaning the scrap Dean had bought the other day while Dean worked on his current car.

Stretches of silence, when the noise of the power tools were too loud to hold a conversation, took turns with moments of light small talk. Bobby didn't push and just enjoyed working alongside Dean.

He'd missed that. As a kid Dean had loved to watch him work or to help him whenever he could. Then, when Dean had become older, they had often worked side by side like now, each of them busy with their own project.

They both had cherished those moments, when John had dumped Dean at Bobby's to disappear for days or sometimes weeks on end, and Dean could just be a kid.

It had never been the same after those three months in the hospital. Bobby had tried to give Dean the same safe haven as before but Dean had changed. Had gotten angrier and more distant.

On his eighteenth birthday Dean had left. Bobby had been sad, still was, but he would be lying if he said that he had been surprised.

"Just like old times." Dean pulled Bobby out of his thoughts.

"Yeah." His voice sounded raspy and he had to blink a few times, damn dust. Bobby wiped his forehead with the back of his hand still holding the steel brush.

"Remember the radio?" Dean asked, proving that his mind had gone similar places as Bobby's.

"Which one?" Bobby went back to brushing dirt and rust off a twisted piece of metal. He had no idea what it had once been, part of some kind of sheathing maybe. "The one you stole from me and took apart to find out how it worked or the one you built from scratch?"

"I just had a look. I was about to put it back together." Dean protested. "You were home early."

Bobby laughed at that and tried to not think about the scared look on Dean's face when he'd been caught with the parts of the radio scattered all over the kitchen table.

"You did put it back together." Bobby reminded him, pointing the brush at him. "And I got the stations clearer than ever after that."

Dean just nodded to that, still not comfortable with compliments.

They called it a day around noon and went upstairs for some quick sandwiches for lunch.

When he stepped out of the elevator, the first thing Bobby did, was to locate Sam. He didn't expect Sam to jump him or anything but he felt better, knowing were the other man was. He did feel a bit guilty for that but he couldn't help it. And neither Dean nor Sam need to know about it.

Turned out Sam couldn't be less of a threat. He'd fallen asleep on the couch, magazine lying on the floor next to him.

"Oh, man." Dean had followed his gaze and had spotted his boyfriend as well.

"Shhh." He made at Bobby, finger on his lips and a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Bobby rolled his eyes but watched in amusement when Dean tip-toed over to the couch.

"Earthquake!" Dean yelled and rattled the couch.

Sam woke with a yelp and promptly fell of the couch in a heap of flailing limbs.

"Your face." Dean almost toppled over laughing. "Bobby, did you see his face?" He had to brace himself on the back of the couch, unimpressed by the bitch-face Sam was giving him from his spot on the floor. If anything it drove Dean into another fit of laughter.

"I see it." Bobby stepped closer to have a better look. By now Sam had come up to a sitting position.

"You." Sam was past the initial shock and didn't seem to be hurt but the look he gave Dean was promising a slow and painful death. "You'll pay for this."

Bobby's stomach went cold. Everything John had ever done or said to Dean rushed back into his mind but the image it settled for in the end was Dean's scared face, pale with huge eyes, over the dismembered radio.

Without noticing he had stepped forward in the attempt to get between Sam and Dean but stopped when Dean just laughed the threat off.

"Sandwiches in ten and then we're hitting the city." Dean thumped the back of the couch. "If you want a wake up shower, you better hurry." And with that he turned his back to Sam and walked over to the kitchen, still snickering to himself.

"Yeah, yeah." Sam muttered and at least came up to sit on the couch. He glanced upwards to the gallery as if he was considering the shower but then he shook his head, dismissing the idea. Instead he made himself more comfortable on the couch until he sat there sprawled out and relaxed with his eyes closed.

"You know." Sam said to Bobby without opening his eyes. "I just wanted to distract him from the nightmares. I wanted to help." He raised his voice to make sure that Dean heard him. "And this is how he thanks me." He cracked one eye open and gave Bobby a pout.

"I'm not the one who doesn't know when to stop." Came Dean's voice from out of the fridge. "You're greedy."

"I just can't get enough of you." Sam shot back.

Bobby stood in the middle and had no idea if he should laugh or smack them both over the head.

By the time the sandwiches were ready Sam was still far from being fully functional but Dean promised him a stop at a coffee shop and that was all it took to get Sam out of the house.

The couch incident seemed forgotten and Bobby didn't sense the collected calmness coming from Sam he had seen on John more than once. The calmness that promised trouble once they were alone. Nothing like that was coming from Sam and Dean didn't seem to be worried in the slightest.

They took the Impala and like promised their first stop was a coffee shop.

"Where to now?" Dean asked when they were back in the car, coffees in hand.

Turned out that Dean hadn't seen much of the city himself so this was new to him as well. The mood was too good, Bobby refused to think too closely about the reason why Dean knew next to nothing about he city he'd lived in for months.

Despite his tiredness Sam had actually a plan and fueled with coffee he was awake enough to make a decent guide.

They left the car near the center and went for a short walk during which Sam pointed out some interesting buildings.

"You're from here?" Bobby asked, impressed by his knowledge.

"I lived here for a while when I was younger." Sam admitted with a glance at Dean that spoke more than his words. Not that Bobby understood the message. "I came back a few years ago. Plus, I'm interested in history."

They had something in common there but Bobby didn't point it out.

They were just in time for a guided tour of the city. Bobby wasn't a big fan of tourist stuff but Sam assured him that they actually managed to make it fun and interesting here.

"He's lying." Dean groaned but in this case Bobby was more inclined to believe Sam. Especially when he greeted their tour guide by name, Cliff, and introduced Dean and Bobby as his friends new to the city.

For some reason that sparked Dean's interest, at least in the guide. The next few minutes he was watching the man as if he wanted to solve some kind of puzzle.

The tour was fun and when it was over and the other tourists had left, they stayed back for a little chat with Cliff.

"How do you like our little place so far?" Cliff asked with genuine interest.

"It has quite some history." Bobby admitted.

During the tour he'd held back with his questions but Cliff was more than willing to answer more in-depth questions now. Which apparently for him covered everything beyond the "When was this built?" tourists usually asked. Even Dean got pulled into the conversation when it came to the more bloody past of the city full of crime and intrigues.

There was one odd moment when Cliff hesitated with an answer and looked over to Sam who answered the unspoken question with a subtle shake of his head. If Bobby hadn't been so observant around Sam he would have missed it. What to make out of it, he didn't know.

Sam had put together the activities of the day clearly with Bobby in mind because their next stop was a used book store. According to Sam it was famous.

When Bobby entered the store, he knew why. He could see shelf-covered walls three stories above. Except for some balconies on each level, there was no ceiling separating the floors. The whole store made him think of a library of an old English university. The soft light and whispered voices, the smell of leather and dust, he was itching to get lost in here for hours.

Next to him Dean groaned again but Sam looked very pleased with himself. Bobby wondered how much his face had given away about how much he liked the store. And so far he'd barely made it farther into the store than through the entrance.

"Nice place." He said in his gruffiest voice and adjusted his hat just to give his hand something to do.

Later Bobby couldn't even tell how he had ended up with Sam, browsing the shelves and discussing various authors and books.

Who knew they had similar interest in obscure literature and medieval European folklore? Bobby didn't notice the hours passing by, for the first time he actually enjoyed Sam's company.

They both had a decent stack of books they wanted to buy sitting next to them and there was so much more Bobby hadn't even seen. He was definitely coming back before he drove back home. And he would make this a regular stop every time he visited Dean.

"I used to come here all the time." Sam filled a lull in their conversation. He sounded almost wistful.

"But not anymore?" Bobby glanced up from the book he was skimming through. They had found a quiet corner on one of the balconies and had sat down in comfortable leather chairs.

"It didn't seem fair to leave Dean by himself while I went out to amuse myself." Sam shifted in his seat and didn't meet Bobby's eyes.

"To me it doesn't seem fair to keep somebody prisoner for your own amusement." Bobby shot back. He felt almost bad for ruining the mood, he had started to like Sam, at least a bit, but he could never forget what he'd done to Dean.

To his surprise Sam didn't defend himself, didn't try to justify his actions. Instead he gave him a sharp nod.

"You're right." He said thickly. "And I still can't believe that he forgave me."

There was nothing Bobby could say to that. The silence that followed wasn't comfortable anymore and Bobby wished that Dean would burst in, whining about leaving the dusty old bookstore.

Speaking of Dean … Bobby hadn't seen him in quite a while.

"Where is Dean?" He asked, looking around without spotting him even from his advantaged point of view from the balcony.

"Down there." Sam nodded towards the ground floor. "He found his own way to enjoy the book store."

Bobby had to lean over the banister to spot Dean downstairs. Not that Dean noticed him, he was too engaged flirting with two women.


	8. Chapter 8

Dean flirting with a woman or two was such a familiar sight, it made Bobby's heart ache. It was good to see him just enjoying himself and Bobby let his gaze linger on the small group for a little while longer before he turned back to Sam who also was watching what was happening on the ground floor.

"You're not worried he's going to cheat on you?" Bobby asked only half joking. He tried to read the other man's expression but couldn't really make sense out of it. Not anger or hate, though, he was sure of that. If Bobby was honest, those were the ones he had been looking for.

"I know the difference between harmless flirting and serious intentions." Sam gave him a look as if he knew exactly what Bobby was thinking. "I'm not worried. And for sure I'm not going to yell at him or hit him as soon as we are alone." The last part came out with a hint of bitterness.

"I know you won't beat him." Bobby sagged deeper into his chair. Sam wasn't John. However, that didn't mean that Sam wasn't abusing him in other ways.

Sam let out a sigh. He put the book aside, to the back to the shelves pile, and reached for another one.

"Dean has some catching up to do." He said without looking up.

"What do you mean?" Bobby had been back to watching Dean, who now had one arm around the brunette's waist while the blond was telling them something that made all of them laugh. It was a nice picture.

"He didn't have much of a chance to go out and meet people over the last few months." Sam elaborated.

"And who's fault is that?" Bobby bit back.

Sam didn't answer, nose in one of the books. Something about blacksmithing. Bobby looked at the one in his own hand about Romanian folklore and decided to not comment on odd reading habits.

"Are you ready to go?" Sam finally asked and put the book on his to buy pile. They both had an impressive pile in front of them and Bobby knew it would only grow if they stayed longer.

They picked up their books and brought them downstairs where Dean said goodbye to his lady friends and joined them in the checkout line.

"You're both nuts." Was his comment when he saw the piles of books they carried. He snagged the one on top of Bobby's pile but put it back with an almost horrified expression when he read the title. He had more luck when stepped over to Sam.

"The New Art of Blacksmithing, at least somebody has taste." He commented and skimmed through the book. Bobby caught glimpses of glossy pictures of different kinds of metalwork.

"Thought you'd like it." Sam snatched the book back to put it on the counter.

"For me?" Dean faked surprise. "You shouldn't have." He flattered his lashes at Sam and gave him a peck on the cheek. They both couldn't keep up a straight face and broke into broad smiles.

The clerk behind the register almost melted at that sight but Bobby only rolled his eyes.

"You need to leave a bookstore with something that has actually words in it and not only numbers. It's a rule." Sam said in a very serious tone.

"It's not my fault that they insisted on giving me their numbers." Dean shrugged, not hiding the fact that he had scored their numbers. He had the book back in hand as soon as the clerk had scanned it. "And you two are buying more than enough books to cover my quota for this year as well."

Heavily loaded they left the store, taking Dean in the middle. He couldn't get his nose out of the book and had to rely on Sam and Bobby to stir him out the store without running into somebody.

"Why are you the one who looks like the bookworm now?" Bobby muttered when they stepped outside. He was surprised how dark it had gotten and by now the air held a little chill.

"How about dinner?" Sam asked already leading the way. At that Dean perked up.

"Food?" He asked hopefully.

"The steakhouse on the 7th?"

"Oh yeah."

Bobby could almost hear Dean's mouth water.

"The steaks are awesome there." Dean fell in step next to Bobby and used the chance to sneak his book in his bag. "And they make this awesome pecan ice cream for dessert."

"I'd never say no to a good steak." Bobby agreed.

The place wasn't packed but full enough that people had to wait a moment for a table. They didn't have a reservation so Bobby expected that they had to wait as well but Sam seemed to know the right persons around here. After a short exchange with one of the waitresses which was too low for Bobby to make out what Sam was telling her, they were seated in a quiet corner in the back.

He wasn't sure if he liked that.

"Are you just rich or some kind of secret mobster?" Bobby muttered more to himself than as an actual question to Sam.

"Maybe a little bit of both?" Sam joked with a smile. Dean let out a snort as if this was one of those jokes between them Bobby didn't get.

But it got him thinking. Sam had money, that much was obvious. But he must also have some shady connections. He had bought Dean somewhere. You didn't get people at Walmart.

With an uneasy feeling in his stomach Bobby studied the menu.

The steak was great and the pecan ice cream to die for but Bobby was glad when they went back to Sam's place after that.

He excused himself and went upstairs with his books but his mind wasn't on reading.

The day had been fun, he had to admit that. He had learned quite a bit about Sam and had seen different sides of him. If that had answered more questions than it had caused, Bobby wasn't sure, though.

He had left the door ajar, just to let Dean know that he wasn't sleeping yet and that he could come ant talk to him if he wanted to. Not to eavesdrop on them, of course not.

For a while there wasn't anything to listen to anyway. Bobby was pretty sure that they were engrossed in their books and he pulled one out of the bag as well. At least it took his mind off things for a while.

When Sam and Dean started to talk downstairs their voices carried surprisingly well. With the door open Bobby had no other choice than to listen in to them.

"Bobby was worried when you were flirting with those women." Sam came to the point right away.

"Uhh?" Dean made after a second and Bobby pictured him tearing his gaze from the book Sam had bought him. Bobby would never have thought of buying a book for Dean and for sure it wouldn't have been this one. Something about cars or guns maybe but for sure not blacksmithing. Sam did know Dean very well.

"Why would he be worried?"

"I guess he was more worried how I would react." Sam let out a tired sigh. "If I would get jealous or something. He always expects the worst from me."

"What, was he thinking I would cheat on you?" Dean tried to stir the conversation in a different direction. "Right under your nose?"

"I don't know." There was resignation written all over his words.

"C'mon, you know that I only cheat on you when you're not looking." He was clearly teasing now and Bobby wasn't sure if he wanted to find out where this was heading. And if closing the door would be enough to keep out the sound.

"Make sure that nobody else is looking either, I have a reputation to lose." Sam finally played along. "If word gets out that I can't satisfy one man …"

"The whole community would laugh about you." Dean finished the sentence for him. "Nobody would take you serious anymore."

There was a moment of almost silence and Bobby pictured kissing and groping in his mind but didn't step out of his room to confirm his suspicions.

"You can't be serious." Dean let out a laugh. "After last night? And the night before Bobby arrived? You should be good for at least two weeks."

"I'm under stress." Sam almost whined. "You want me to suffer?"

Bobby tensed at those words and held his breath for Dean's answer.

"Nice try, big guy." There was a pat loud enough for Bobby to hear but Sam was built like a brick wall, he could take a friendly hit. "But I know all your tells. You're far from starving."

Sam didn't say anything but Bobby pictured him pouting.

"Besides, Bobby would probably hear us and I want to be able to still look him in the eye when he leaves." Dean said and Bobby couldn't agree more. "No sex while he is here." Dean said it in a firm voice and Sam didn't argue.

They fell silent, probably went back to reading, and Bobby turned his attention back to his own book as well.

He was just about to call it a day and turn in for real, when a phone rang. It wasn't his own and a quick glance to the alarm clock on the nightstand confirmed that it was awfully late for a social call.

Bobby got up and stepped out of his room just in time to see Sam answering his phone. Dean sat in one of the chairs, feet on the table and his book in his lap but he had an equally concerned eye on Sam.

"Yes?" Sam answered the phone. "Benny? What happened?"

At that Dean took his feet off the table and sat up straighter. Bobby didn't know who Benny was but Dean's reaction told him that this call couldn't be good. For a moment Sam didn't speak and just listened, pacing up and down the living room.

"Are you sure?" Sam asked, his free hand fisting his hair. "Okay, I'll be there. Give me twenty minutes." He ended the call and just stood there for a moment.

"What happened?" Dean asked while Bobby hurried down the stairs. Whatever this was, it didn't sound good.

"That was Benny." Sam stated the obvious. "There has been …" He glanced at Bobby. "... an incident. He wants me to have a look."

There was a lot he wasn't telling them and Dean opened his mouth to demand answers, he had that look, but to Bobby's surprise he closed it again without saying a word.

"I have to go." Sam gave Dean a quick kiss and a minute later he was gone.

Bobby and Dean stood there in stunned silence.

"Who is Benny?" He finally asked and sat down on the couch which was still warm from where Sam had been lying only moments ago.

"A friend." Dean flopped back in his chair, clearly not liking this either. "He's a cop. He was the one who told me about John getting free."

If Dean had mentioned the name before Bobby had forgotten but that wasn't the point now.

"What does he want?" Bobby ask. "That didn't sound like he was inviting him over for a beer. Sam's some kind of consultant?" Sam was working in law but Bobby had no idea what exactly he did.

"Not really." Dean shook his head. "No idea what this is about, though."

Bobby couldn't shake off the feeling that Dean did know more than he let on and he was sure that Sam would have told him more if Bobby hadn't been around.

The thoughts about Sam being a criminal of some kind came back but he was working with the police now. At least with one cop. The cop who had known about Sam keeping Dean prisoner and who had done nothing about it. That cop.

Bobby ran a hand over his beard. He didn't like this one bit.


	9. Chapter 9

After Sam had left, Dean and Bobby just sat there both not sure what to do now.

Before, Bobby had been ready to go to sleep but now he was wide awake.

"Want to watch some TV?" Dean asked, fiddling with the remote. His book lay forgotten on the table right next the the one Sam had left behind.

"Sure." Bobby answered because anything was better than to sit here in silence, wondering what Sam and this Benny cop guy were up to in the middle of the night.

The TV flickered to life and they both turned to face the screen but Bobby was sure that Dean paid as much attention as him to what was going on.

"He's not in trouble, is he?" Bobby asked as casually as possible without looking at Dean.

"Sam? Na." Dean shrugged it off but Bobby couldn't shake off the feeling that Dean had at least a general idea what this was about.

"Probably some law stuff." Dean added after a moment. "Sam's company is consulting some businesses Benny's folks own."

"That sounds like mafia." Bobby said only half joking. For some reason Dean did find it funny, though.

"Something like that."

"What kind of businesses?" Bobby asked over Dean's chuckle.

"A blood bank and a bar, those are the ones I know of." Dean made a vague gesture to indicated that there was probably more.

"And they need emergency consulting at this time of the night?" Bobby raised an eyebrow at him.

"It's more likely a case Benny is working on." Dean pondered. "Or he just needs him to get rid of a body." He added with a grin.

"Thought you want me to like him." Bobby muttered.

"I do." Dean sobered up. "Sam is a good man and I love him. This is the man I want to spent the rest of my life with, so yeah, I want you two to get along."

Bobby hmmed to that.

"And you did get along today." Dean pointed out. "Don't deny it, you two had fun together. I watched you on the tour and later in the store, on the balcony."

"We may have some common interests." Bobby agreed solemnly. That was the problem. On one hand there was the Sam he got to know over the last few days. A guy he could actually like with a fine sense of humor and an interest in history and odd topics just like his own. A guy that made Dean smile in a way Bobby hadn't seen in a long time.

On the other hand, this was the guy who had no qualms buying a human being.

"Forget what he did." Dean said as if he knew exactly what Bobby was thinking. Which wasn't hard because the same old thoughts had been running circles in his mind since Dean had told him about what had happened to him. "Judge him based on what he's doing now and not on what he's done in the past."

"It's not that easy." Bobby let out a sigh. He felt like a broken record but somebody had to keep in mind what Sam had done.

"Never said it would be easy." Dean agreed and stood up. "Want a beer?"

It looked like this was going to be a long night. Neither of them intended to go to bed before Sam was back, they didn't say it out loud but that much was clear.

"Sure." Bobby agreed to the beer. It would at least give him something to do.

They watched TV and drank their beer and even a second one but not more. Getting drunk didn't seem like a good idea.

It was almost two in the morning when the sound of the elevator startled Bobby out of his dazed state. He had been on the brink of drifting off to sleep but now he sat up straight, eyes on the doors of the elevator.

Next to him Dean was on his feet in an instant. He shifted from one foot to the other as if he wanted to sprint forward but stayed in his place until the doors opened and two men stepped out.

Then Dean was at their side in a heartbeat.

"What happened?" The question was addressed to both men but at least Sam didn't seem to be in the condition to answer.

Bobby followed him a bit slower, taking in the scene in front of him.

A man Bobby didn't know more or less carried Sam out of the elevator. He had Sam's right arm slung over his shoulder and his own arm around Sam's waist.

"Is that blood?" Bobby asked, stepping closer. There were dark strains on Sam's shirt and the front of his jeans as if he'd wiped his hands there. Even without the telltale smell of copper Bobby would have been sure that it was blood. If it was Sam's or somebody else's he couldn't tell.

Sam didn't lift his head and the hair hid his face so Bobby wasn't even sure if Sam was conscious. He did lift his feet when the man coaxed him forward, though.

The other man looked worse for wear as well. He was steady on his feet but had strains on his clothes and hands as well.

"Sammy?" With both hands gently on Sam's face Dean lifted his head to have a look at him. "Benny, what happened?" The last part was addressed to the man who kept on dragging Sam towards the next chair.

So this was the famous Benny, Bobby thought.

The man dropped Sam in the chair and then stood face to face with Bobby. A stocky man with a blond beard and piercing blue eyes. He knew that because the piercing stare was on him now. For a second they just stared each other down, trying to figure out if the other one was a threat. But then Sam moaned and said something slurred that could have been "Dean" and with that the moment was over.

"I'm here." Dean assured him and crouched down in front of Sam to look him in the eye. "Where are you hurt?"

"Shouldn't he be in a hospital?" Bobby asked, giving the man a glare of his own.

"And you are?"

"Bobby Singer." He introduced himself with his arms crossed over his chest.

Something like recognition flashed over Benny's face and his eyes flickered over to Dean who ignored the stand off right next to him. He had his hands under Sam's shirt, searching for injuries while he spoke softly to him.

"Dean's surrogate father." Benny said with a nod and held out his hand. "Benny Lafitte."

Bobby hadn't expected the man to know him so he took the offered hand more out of reflex than anything else.

"What happened?" Bobby repeated the question and at that Dean looked at Benny as well.

"I hadn't expected her to stick around." He said and rubbed his beard. "I just wanted Sam to have a look at the scene when she jumped him. Thought he was hunting in her grounds or something like that." He kept his words as vaguely as possible and Bobby wasn't sure if that was because he was talking about an ongoing investigation or if this was because of his audience.

"Aren't there rules about that?" Dean seemed to know exactly what Benny was talking about.

"She wasn't from here and didn't know how things are handled around here." Benny said.

"Did you at least arrest her?" Bobby cut in.

"Pretty sure she skipped town by now. We're looking for her." Benny said and Bobby believed the first part. The looking for her, however, that sounded like bullshit.

"You know." Benny said with a fond smile at Sam's hunched over form. "You always think the emo suckers are wimps and then they kick your ass. She knocked me down but Sam sent her running."

"Yeah, I know. I told him once that he has lame superpowers but he's totally Batman." Dean said hoarsely, a steady hand on Sam's chest to keep him from doubling over.

Bobby didn't know where Benny got the emo thing from. When he looked at Sam, the last thing coming to mind was emo.

"I'm taking him upstairs to clean him up." Dean announced when he'd made sure that Sam was in no immediate danger. Bobby still didn't know how bad it was but Dean wasn't freaking out so it couldn't be too bad. And Benny would have brought Sam to the ER if necessary, right? Benny was a cop after all and Sam was his friend.

So far Sam hadn't said a word and Bobby wasn't sure if he even knew where he was but neither Dean nor Benny seemed particularly worried.

Bobby and Benny watched Dean guiding Sam up the stairs. He was there enough to climb the stairs without too many problems but he was leaning heavily on Dean.

Bobby thought he'd heard Dean say: "The length you go to get laid, man." but it was so low that he wasn't sure if he'd heard correctly.

Next to him Benny let out a soft huff that almost counted as a laugh.

Then Bobby was alone with Benny and had no idea what to do next. He wanted to go after Dean and Sam to make sure that Sam was alright but he couldn't leave this stranger here all by himself.

"Don't worry." Benny said when the door upstairs closed, cutting off the last noises. "It's not bad. He got it worse when John had laid into him."

"John?" Bobby turned to face him. He must have misheard. Or Benny was talking about another John.

"Dean's dad?" Benny confirmed that they were talking about the same John.

"What do you know about that?" Sure he was Sam's friend and Sam might have told him some stuff but Bobby had been there. John had attacked Dean in his house and John had bled out on his floor. And for sure Sam had been nowhere in sight.

"Dean called me." Benny said it as if it should be obvious. "When he thought that Sam was dead."

"That's bull." Bobby blurted out. "Sam wasn't even there."

For a second they were back to staring at each other but this time Benny didn't try to intimidate him. It was more like Benny tried to read something in his expression.

"They didn't tell you." He finally said, rubbing a hand over his beard and Bobby fought the urge to do the same.

"What didn't they tell me?" Maybe now he would get some answers. At least Benny was admitting that there was something to tell.

"When John came for Dean, Sam was there." Benny finally said, carefully measuring his words. "He got hurt pretty bad."

Bobby hadn't been there, he'd still been stuck in the hospital at that time, but he did remember calling Dean for days afterwards but all he got was Sam. A pretty healthy sounding Sam who had told him over and over again that Dean was sleeping, that he was resting, that he couldn't come to the phone right now.

And later, when they had picked him up from the hospital they both had been fine.

"Even if he had been there." And he highly doubted it. "Dean had been the one bedridden after that, not Sam."

Now Benny turned away and if Bobby didn't know better he would have sworn that the other man was blushing.

"I bet." Benny muttered under his breath. He awkwardly cleared his throat before he spoke again. "I wasn't there, maybe Sam was just telling war stories, I don't know."

Bobby wasn't sure what to make out of that so he said nothing.

"It's getting late, I should head home." Benny started walking towards the elevator slow enough that it didn't count as a hasty retreat. "You should go to bed as well, you won't see either of them before morning anyway."

Before Bobby could ask for an explanation the doors of the elevator closed and he was alone.

"Balls."


	10. Chapter 10

After Benny was gone, Bobby stood in the middle of the living room and had no idea what to think or to do next.

He was pretty sure that Benny had told him more than he'd intended and most likely more than he should have. Bobby blamed it on the late hour, it was way after midnight by now, and whatever had happened on that ominous scene Benny had called Sam in to.

Benny had tried to back-paddle but Bobby didn't fall for that for one second. Benny was convinced that Sam had been there that night. That he'd been hurt badly enough for Dean to think that he was dead. Why Dean had called Benny of all people Bobby didn't know but that was one of the questions he intended to ask him in the morning.

But Sam was hurt and, Bobby's feelings for him aside, that had priority right now. Like Benny had predicted neither Sam nor Dean came back out of the bedroom so Bobby climbed the stairs and then stood in front of the door, unsure if he should knock or not. He wanted to check on them, more for Dean's benefit than Sam's but still.

He heard water running and muffled voices.

"Dean?" Bobby knocked on the door. "Sam? Everything alright?"

Dean said something that sounded suspiciously like "fuck" and a long moment later he opened the door. He didn't invite Bobby in and he blocked the door with his body.

"Is Sam okay?" Bobby asked, trying to catch a glimpse on the injured man but couldn't see much past Dean. Sam was probably still in the bathroom anyway.

"He's fine." Dean assured him with a tired smile. "Just a scratch, looked worse than it is."

"There was quite some blood." Bobby pointed out.

"Don't worry, he just needs to sleep it off." Dean tried to dismiss it.

There was a snort coming from the bathroom and then Sam came into view. His hair was wet and he was only wearing a bathrobe which he'd wrapped tightly around his body.

"Like Dean said." Sam stepped closer so that Bobby had a better view on him and he couldn't shake off the feeling that that was the intention behind this. To give him proof that he was in fact fine and not bleeding to death or something like that. "I'm fine. I'm just tired."

He did look tired, Bobby had to admit, and not in the content could use a nap after he got the cream way. He had dark smudges under his eyes and his face almost looked hollow as if he'd lost a few pounds over the last couple of hours but that could just be the lighting.

"Look." Dean shifted which brought him more between Sam and Bobby, if intentional or not Bobby couldn't tell. "I know you have a lot of questions but it's been a long day and we're all tired." He ran a hand over his mouth. "Can this wait until tomorrow?"

Bobby wanted to say no. He needed some answers and he needed them now but one look at Dean's pleading eyes and he caved. Dean had never been good at asking for the things he wanted. Not even for the things he needed. It had taken Bobby years to convince Dean that he did deserve something nice once in a while so every time Dean did ask for something, Bobby just couldn't say no.

"Sure." He said. "We'll talk tomorrow. Good night."

"Thanks, man. You're the best." Dean flashed him a grin which didn't quite reach his eyes but Bobby gave him a nod and went over to his room.

Doors closed and Bobby was once again alone with his thoughts.

He was too awake to go to sleep so he took out his laptop. If Sam and Dean didn't give him answers he could at least look for some online.

He had googled Sam before but it was a good point to start so he did it again. There were still only a few hits coming up. No big scandals and not much social media either. Who of Sam's age didn't have facebook?

The first time he'd done this Bobby had felt relieved when he hadn't found anything about an ex talking about his abusive boyfriend or worse articles about Sam being convicted in that regard.

Looking at it now, it seemed odd. Sam's name came up once or twice but not as often as it should. There was almost nothing not work related and even that information was sketchy at best. Hell, Bobby got more hits for himself than for Sam.

Next he tried "Benjamin Lafitte". He was in fact a cop, that much Bobby found out, but that was all the information he got. There was nothing personal and even the last name alone didn't bring up more. If his folks owned some businesses in the city like Dean had said, their name wasn't Lafitte. Which didn't have to mean anything.

Bobby sat on his bed, laptop on his stretched out legs, and tried to make sense out of this. For a moment he let his mind run wild which promptly came up with things like witness protection and undercover agents. He stopped himself at sleeper terrorists, that was just ridiculous.

However, it was like they had names and jobs but there wasn't really a person behind that. As if it was some kind of fake identity.

He would have let it slide if it had been only one of them but both? Bobby didn't believe in coincidence.

He shut the laptop and turned off the light. His mind had now settled on gang members on the run which sounded like the most likely option so far. If someone from their past had caught up with Benny it made sense that he would call Sam to help him cleaning up the mess.

It sounded more like an action thriller than reality and Bobby really hoped that he would get a better explanation in the morning.

In the quiet of the room the noises from the other bedroom carried louder and Bobby rolled his eyes. At least they tried to tune it down this time but there were still unmistakable sex noises coming from their room.

"He can't be hurt that badly." Bobby mumbled and drew the blanket over his head.

Bobby woke late that morning but he wasn't the last one in the kitchen.

"Coffee?" Sam offered him a cup which he took with a muttered "thanks"and then sat down at the table.

Over the rim of his cup he watched Sam who was in the middle of mixing something in a bowl and didn't pay much attention to Bobby. He looked fine today and didn't move like he was in pain. Maybe Dean had been right and all Sam had needed was a good night's sleep. And judging by the noises he had heard last night some special Dean r&r.

"Dean's still sleeping?" Bobby asked when he didn't see the other man around. He could be working downstairs but somehow he doubted it. It had been a long day.

"Hmm." Sam answered, busy with the pancake batter if Bobby wasn't mistaken. A little too busy. He was probably waiting for the questions Bobby had. However, Bobby had no idea where to even start.

The oil in the pan was already smoking when Sam deemed the batter ready.

"You think that's a good idea?" He asked but Sam was already pouring a good amount into the pan.

The next second they were coughing smoke and Sam jumped away from the stove to avoid the sizzling drops of oil and batter flying around.

"Shit." With his long arm and a towel he managed to dump the pan in the sink, almost setting the towel on fire in the process, and then he turned the kitchen into a sauna by turning on the water.

Sam waved the towel around to clear the smoke and the steam which didn't help at all but was fun to watch.

Bobby bit back a laugh but couldn't hide his amusement. Sam just stood there like a lost puppy.

"Dean is going to kill me." He finally said with a look around the trashed kitchen. He was probably right. But then he shrugged and his face lit up. "Cereal?"

"You don't intent to cook it, right?" Bobby asked, finally understanding why Dean did all the cooking around here. How Sam had survived before Dean had moved in was beyond him.

Sam fixed them two bowls without burning them and then sat down opposite to Bobby.

"You want to know what happened last night." Sam approached the topic without prompting.

"Some answers would be nice for a change." Bobby stood up to refill their cups while Sam tried to figure out where to start.

"Before I met Dean." He gave Bobby a look as if he expected him to correct him there but for once Bobby just made an impatient gesture for him to continue.

"Before I met him I was a regular in most of the clubs downtown. I was out almost every weekend and sometimes during the week as well." He grew more comfortable with the topic but Bobby got the feeling that he'd practiced this little speech. "I know the scene. The regulars and the troublemakers. I know the people who work there and I know the ones who sell drugs and sex." He paused for a moment, waiting for Bobby's reaction. Bobby wasn't sure where this was heading but so far he didn't detect a lie. He did however wonder how Sam had gotten to know about the sex and the drugs.

"There had been a murder last night." Sam said quietly, rolling his cup between his hands.

That had been high on Bobby's list of possible scenarios but hearing it like this made it real. Bobby shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"So your cop friend called you?" He asked when Sam stayed silent for too long. "For what? To look at the scene and tell him who did it?" That seemed a bit far fetched.

"Something like that." Sam admitted almost sheepishly.

"Don't they have, I don't know, informants in the scene?" He had no idea how things like this worked. He doubted that it worked like it did on CSI and the bits he got from Sheriff Mills had been more about drunk drivers and catching juvenile troublemakers.

"Yeah." Sam cleared his throat awkwardly. "Me for example."

It made sense. It didn't answer all of his questions but it did make sense. Maybe Sam was just that good at lying but Bobby had the feeling that he was telling the truth. Just not all the truth.

"And the one who did it, do you know her?" For some reason it seemed more likely that Sam knew the perpetrator than the victim. Bobby might have been a bit biased here, he had to admit.

"Not personally but I know her kind."

Whatever that meant.

Sam stood up to put the empty bowls in the dish washer, clearly done with this topic.

"Why didn't you tell me that you were there when John came back?" Bobby dropped the bomb and Sam almost dropped the bowl.

Slowly Sam turned around.

"Why didn't you or Dean tell me that you were hurt so badly that Dean thought you were dying?"

Sam gaped at him, lost for words.

"How …?" Was the only thing he managed to get out but that was enough to confirm that he had been there.

"Your cop friend has been a bit chatty last night." Bobby took a sip of his coffee. "Told me that John almost killed you."

Sam had been prepared to explain last night but this came out of the blue and it threw him off completely.

"He didn't hurt me that bad." Sam dismissed his injury with a wave of his hand. "It wasn't important. Dean had just shot his own father, that was important. Besides, you didn't want me to stay there so we figured …" He made a helpless gesture.

It didn't make sense. One of the things Bobby had held against him was that Sam hadn't been there when Dean had needed him the most. So why hadn't they just told him? Why make it such a secret?

Bobby opened his mouth to ask exactly that but somebody was quicker.

"What the hell did you do to my kitchen?"


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, I had to skip last week's update. Real life is taking a toll on me right now. However, I've just finished my latest gen story so my Saturday slot is free at the moment. So for now, updates every Saturday.

"What the hell did you do to my kitchen?" Dean had found his way downstairs, still in his sweatpants and sleep-crumbled t-shirt, and he had murder in eyes.

Sam slipped deeper into his chair and Bobby half-expected him to crawl under the table.

"I wanted to make Bobby a nice breakfast?" He said meekly.

"You told the fire department to bring donuts?" Dean waved around in the still smoke heavy air and coughed into his fist which sounded only half fake. Then he turned on his heel to take in the rest of his kitchen.

Sam hurried to pour him a coffee as a peace offering. Dean took the cup and then sat down at the table with a heavy sigh.

"I'll clean it up." Sam promised.

"You've done enough damage." Dean glared at Sam over the rim of his coffee. "You're banned from the kitchen. For life!"

Sam didn't argue and just slumped back down in his chair. Bobby fought the urge to tell Dean to not go too hard on Sam, the boy only had tried to do something nice for his boyfriend's disgruntled father figure.

"What did you try to do anyway?" Dean had another look around, frowning at the pan in the sink and the splatters of batter and oil on the counter, the wall and everywhere else. There was even some of it in Sam's hair.

"Pancakes?" Sam answered. He didn't sound sure at all that that was what he'd tried to accomplish and for some reason Bobby was suddenly very glad that the pancakes hadn't panned out. "But then we switched to cereal."

"I wonder why." Dean sighed but let it be.

Bobby had expected more of a fight, Dean should be livid by now but this morning he was the one looking tired and exhausted.

Sam gave Dean a shy smile and then made a show of checking the time.

"I have to hurry, Benny wants me to come in and give a statement." He stood up in a haste, the legs of his chair scratching over the floor, making Dean wince. Then he leaned over and gave Dean a quick kiss on the cheek and Bobby was pretty sure he heard him mumble: "I'm sorry, I'll make it up to you later."

Sam hurried up the stairs to get dressed and Bobby almost called after him to remind him to wash his hair before he gave his statement to the police with pancake batter in his hair.

Sam left not much later in a clean suit and still wet hair. At least he didn't look like he'd fought and lost in a high school cafeteria fight anymore.

The whole time Bobby and Dean sat in silence in the destroyed kitchen, nursing their coffees.

"You okay?" Bobby asked when Dean just sat there with his coffee almost untouched in front of him. Usually he would be up to his second or third cup by now. He was too pale for Bobby's liking and he had to rest his chin in his hand to keep himself from face-planting on the table.

"Just tired." Dean admitted and blinked his eyes open. It lasted for about three seconds.

"You look sick, boy." Bobby observed and fought the urge to feel Dean's forehead. He looked like he had a fever with his pale face, dark smudges under his eyes and pink blotches high on his cheeks. Now, after his outrage had died down, he was visibly shivering and covered in a thin layer of sweat.

"I'm fine." Dean insisted but didn't put much effort in convincing Bobby of that fact.

"Sure you are." Bobby huffed in amusement. "Why don't you go back to bed and sleep for a couple of hours? You look like you need it."

Dean didn't answer for a moment and Bobby wondered if he'd fallen asleep at the table.

"Can't." Dean finally managed to say. He straightened up which took much more effort than it should have. "I have to clean up this mess." He waved his hand around the kitchen. "I have a car I need to finish today and there is stuff I need to prepare for that stupid open door thing Sam wants to do so badly. Besides." He gave him a watery smile. "I can't just leave you on your own. You're my guest."

The only urgent thing on his list was the car and Bobby doubted that it had to be done on the weekend.

"I'll clean up the kitchen and you go back to bed." Bobby decided and to his surprise Dean muttered a protest under his breath but hauled his ass out off the chair without a real fight.

He had to promise that he would wake him in an hour, which Bobby didn't intend to do, and then Dean slowly made his way upstairs.

Bobby watched him until the bedroom door closed behind him.

"Should have stayed in bed in the first place." Bobby grumbled. Dean had been fine last night so he hoped that this was some kind of twenty-four hour bug which Dean just needed to sleep off.

Alone once again Bobby went to work. He dumped the leftover batter in the garbage and rinsed the bowl before he put it and all the other stuff Sam had used in the dish washer. Then he let the pan soak in the sink while he cleaned the counter and every surface near by.

Even the toy car on the fridge hadn't been safe. He carefully cleaned it up and then went to see if the pan was salvageable. If not Dean could just build another car out of it.

When everything was clean and in order again, even the pan, Bobby dried his hands with a satisfied look around.

With not much else to do he got his book and made himself comfortable on the couch. However, he couldn't focus on what he was reading and so he stared blankly at the page, thinking about what had happened earlier.

Bobby had seen it over the last few days but the pancake incident had made it pretty clear. Dean wasn't afraid of Sam. He had no qualms chewing Sam's ass out and Sam didn't react like Bobby would have expected. Sam didn't react with aggression like John would have.

Sam hadn't told Dean that it wouldn't have happened if Dean had been up early enough to make breakfast for them. Sam hadn't twisted it around until it was all Dean's fault. He had taken the blame he deserved and had even offered to clean up his mess.

But most of all, Bobby didn't get the impression that his was an act for his benefit and that things were different when Dean was alone with Sam.

Bobby had come here with the intention to hate Sam. He knew what Sam had done to Dean and that was more than enough reason to hate him but the Sam he got to know now was completely different. It was hard to not like this man. Bobby had almost felt sorry for him earlier.

When Sam came back around noon, Bobby had found his way into his book and Dean was still sleeping.

Sam stepped out of the elevator, tie loosened, the top button of his shirt open and frustration in every step he made.

"Thought they just wanted your statement." Bobby put his book away while Sam sat down in the chair next to him.

"Since Benny is involved in this, he can't take my statement." Sam said. "And the officer I talked to got the stupid idea that I knew the victim."

"Why would he think that?"

"Apparently the guy she murdered swung both ways." Sam let out a sigh, elbows resting on his knees. "And since I used to be a regular in the scene I have to know him? I didn't get the memo but apparently all not straight people know each other and had sex with each other." He snorted.

"As long as he doesn't accuse you of murdering the poor guy." Bobby shook his head and didn't hold back the fond smile.

"He was smart enough to not outright say stuff that could get him in trouble." Sam almost sounded disappointed. He was a lawyer, destroying bigoted police officers probably counted as fun for him.

"Where is Dean?" Only now Sam had a real look around. "I didn't see him downstairs."

"Sleeping." Bobby answered. "He didn't feel well, got a stomach bug or something."

"Stomach bug?" Sam stared at him as if that was the most alien thought he'd ever heard. But then something like understanding dawned on his face. "Oh … oh. Shit."

"What?" Alarmed Bobby sat up straighter, pinning Sam down with a stare.

"It's nothing." He hurried to say which was a lie, that much was clear.

"Sam." Bobby raised his voice. "What is with Dean?"

"It's nothing." He repeated and this time it didn't sound like that much of a lie anymore. "He just has so much on his mind right now. His business, the upcoming open door day, your visit." He paused for a moment, searching for the right words. "Look, Dean doesn't have many people in his life and he really wants us to get along. I get that you don't trust me and you have good reasons for that, I know and Dean knows that as well, but it's really eating at him."

Bobby had to look away. He knew that the situation wasn't easy for Dean. The more he got to know Sam the more he liked the other man but he couldn't just ignore what Sam had done.

"Besides." Sam added almost sheepishly. "He didn't have a good night's sleep in a while."

Bobby didn't dare to ask if he was referring to the nightmares or the marathon sex they seemed to have on a regular basis so he kept his mouth shut and just nodded to that.

"What?" Bobby asked when he noticed Sam itching on the edge of his seat, throwing glances in the direction of the bedroom and at the freshly cleaned kitchen.

"Did he eat something?"

"Just coffee." Bobby answered and couldn't even recall if Dean had sugar or not.

"He needs something to regain some energy."

"Just let him sleep it off." Bobby held him back when Sam wanted to get up. "He can eat when he wakes up on his own."

"He had this before." Sam said in a way that didn't felt like a lie but not like the entire truth either. "He'll recover faster with something in his stomach."

"It's your head he'll bite off if you wake him up." Bobby raised his hands in defeat. He'd dealt with a sick or hungover Dean often enough to know that Sam should be glad for every minute Dean stayed asleep. But if he wanted to poke the bear, it was Sam who'd have to deal with the poked bear.

"You're not thinking about cooking him something, aren't you?"

"What?" Sam teared his eyes off the kitchen. "No."

In the end Sam put together a tray with sandwiches, orange juice and a few cookies. The closest he came to cooking was fixing a mug of instant broth and he didn't set the kitchen on fire when he heated the water.

"You sure he's up for this much?" Bobby eyed the tray but didn't stop Sam when he added buttered toast for the broth.

"Trust me, Dean needs some calories right now." Sam gave him a little smile, almost begging him to trust him on this.

Bobby didn't see a reason not to, the worst that could happen was that Dean would kick Sam out, telling him where he could stick his sandwiches. Which would probably be fun to watch.

 _Maybe_ , Bobby thought while he watched Sam making his way up the stairs with his packed tray, _maybe it's time for a little trust._


	12. Chapter 12

Bobby had expected that Sam would stay with Dean but a few minutes after the bedroom door had closed behind Sam and his tray of calories for Dean, the door opened again.

Deep in thoughts Sam came down the stairs and kept himself busy with putting away the tray and the at least half-empty dishes before he ran out of things to do and sat down in his chair again.

He'd used the chance and had changed into something more comfortable than the suit but even in jeans and t-shirt he didn't look relaxed.

"Dean is okay?" Bobby asked when the other man just stared into nothingness.

"He's fine." Sam pulled himself out of his thoughts and gave Bobby a little smile. "He ate and now he just needs rest. He should be back on his feet tomorrow."

Bobby hadn't been sure if Sam's reaction was just mother-henning his boyfriend or something more serious. Now it looked like Sam just cared about Dean. A lot.

Bobby didn't know what to say. He didn't want to ask more questions, not now, and he didn't want to give the impression that Sam had to prove himself. He still had to earn Bobby's trust, they both knew it, but it was time for Bobby to back off. At least a little bit.

So without that, he didn't know what to say.

Sam seemed to have a similar problem, he was shifting in his seat, eyes darting around the room to find something to say or do.

"Do you play pool?" He suddenly asked.

"Who do you think Dean learned it from?" Bobby asked and stood up. A little game could be exactly what they needed.

"I regularly get my ass handed to me." Sam said with a grin. Bobby took it as a compliment.

The first game Bobby won but he had the feeling that Sam had let him win.

"You don't have to coddle me, boy." Bobby set the table for the next round. "Play to win or don't play at all."

The second game Sam actually tried to win and Bobby had to put up a real fight to keep up with him. Bobby won but it was a tight one.

The third game was Sam's. Same with the forth.

They called it even after that because it was getting late.

"Good game, boy." Bobby gave Sam a quick pat on the shoulder when he handed the cue back. He pretended that he didn't notice the hopeful look in Sam's eyes and glanced over to the kitchen instead. It was dinner time and he was getting hungry but Dean was still sleeping.

Bobby looked up at the bedroom door and next to him Sam did the same. That did it. Bobby burst out laughing.

Sam threw him a confused look but then made the connection and a second later he doubled over.

Dean must be really out of it because he didn't come running when the two men were snorting and gasping, shaking with waves of laughter.

"I'm banned from the kitchen." Sam said in short spurts between suppressed chuckles. "But you could …" He wiped the tears from his eyes and made a gesture in the direction of the kitchen.

"You think after what I saw this morning I'm going to mess with his kitchen?" Bobby had almost composed himself and took a deep breath. "I'm not that brave."

"Chinese?"

"Sounds good."

They didn't wake Dean but Sam seemed to know his favorites and ordered for him as well. When the food arrived half an hour later Dean still hadn't come downstairs so they set his meal aside, he could reheat it later.

"This is good." Bobby said and relaxed more into his chair. He'd never thought this would happen but he felt comfortable in Sam's presence.

"Before Dean moved in." Sam said around a mouth full of noodles. "I lived on take out. Believe me, I know the best places in the city. And the worst." He shuddered theatrically.

"I bet." Even the little angry flare over how Sam said that Dean had _moved in_ couldn't dampen the fondness Bobby felt for the young man. "Why do you have such a big kitchen in the first place? You could live on a coffeemaker and a microwave alone."

"What else would I do with all the space?" He gestured with his chopsticks around the open floor. Even with the kitchen, the wide lounge area around the TV and the pool and poker tables the room felt mostly empty.

"Besides." Sam added with a grin. "Dean loves the kitchen."

There was nothing to say to that.

Bobby ate more than he should and when he finally pushed the last container away, he felt full and tired but satisfied on a deep level. He'd just spent hours with Sam and he'd really enjoyed it.

"Espresso?" Sam asked.

Bobby was more of a shot after dinner kind of guy but he didn't have the heart to tell Sam that so he agreed to a tiny cup of caffeine.

Which turned out to be really good.

_I need to find a way to steal that coffeemaker_ , Bobby thought with a glance at said coffeemaker. That thing most likely cost more than his house so he wouldn't just buy one for himself. Unlike some people he wasn't swimming in money. He tore his eyes off the machine and looked at Sam instead. He was nipping at this espresso with half-closed eyes. Only now Bobby realized how young he was, at least a few years younger than Dean.

"You asked me why we didn't tell you that I was there." Sam suddenly broke the silence. His relaxed posture didn't change and he didn't even open his eyes all the way. "John grazed me and then knocked me out. Dean had just shot his own father, there was blood all over and I was out cold, no wonder he thought that I was dead." Now Sam opened his eyes and looked at Bobby. He had thought that Sam looked young just a second ago but his eyes were different. Those eyes were old.

"I know I should have stayed. Be there for Dean, let myself get checked out and all that." Sam said. "Truth is, I was scared. I was pretty out of it and I was scared what would happen if the police got interested in me." He paused, looking Bobby straight in the eye. "I was scared of what you would tell the police about me." Bobby had to admit that he had a point there. Dean had never wanted to get the police involved in what had happened to him and Bobby had respected that. But if the police or Sheriff Mills had asked him directly what he knew about Sam … Bobby knew what he would have answered back then. Now he wasn't so sure anymore what his answer would be, though.

"It was Dean's idea." Sam continued. "He told me to hide in the basement until everything was over. When everyone had left, Dean came for me and fixed me up. After that he just collapsed. I took care of him until we picked you up from the hospital."

It sounded right, plausible. Bobby wasn't sure if it was the whole truth but it didn't feel like a lie either.

"Thanks for telling me." Bobby said and he meant it. "And just for the record? Next time you get shot and hit over the head you get yourself checked out, understood? Dean likes you too much for you to die on him."

"Yes, sir." Sam gave him a broad smile and Bobby couldn't help it, it warmed his heart.

With that out of the way Bobby once again didn't know what to say. When his eyes settled on the toy car on the fridge, Sam followed his gaze.

"Have you ever tried one of the cars?"

"No." He felt a bit stupid for it but only now it occurred to him that the cars were actually working toys. He had known that in an abstract way but every time he looked at one of them, it struck him as art. Something to look at, to admire, but for sure not something he would put on the floor and play with.

"Of course Dean would never suggest it." Sam muttered. "He's been holding his breath for your opinion on them but is too much of a coward to outright ask."

The car on the fridge was the nearest one so Sam grabbed that and put it on the floor.

"Here, try it." Sam held out the remote but Bobby hesitated to take it.

"I don't want to break it." He said. He wanted to try it, he wanted it badly now that he'd realized that the cars were actually working, but he was too afraid that he would run it into a wall. Dean had put so much work into this little car.

"You won't break it." Sam assured him. "You can't be worse of a driver than I am. Besides, it's made of steel, the worst that can happen is a scratch and a dent in the wall and believe me, I caused plenty of those."

"If it breaks I'll blame it on you." Bobby said but took the remote.

At first he didn't dare to go beyond short sprints but after a few minutes he felt confident enough to let the little car race through the room.

"How about a race?" Sam picked up another car, there were more than enough around. This one was red and orange with elegant swirls and lines that almost look baroque. Sam set it next to Bobby's dark blue one that looked more like it belonged to Cthulhu than anything else but strangely enough, they fit together. All the cars Bobby had seen around the loft seemed to belong to the same series. They looked completely different but somehow it was clear that they belonged together.

But then the race was on and all philosophical thoughts were forgotten.

Of course Sam beat him the first time but with every round Bobby grew more confident and in the end they were racing for real.

"Take that." Bobby yelled when he won his first race. Okay, Sam had missed a turn and had crashed into the couch which gave Bobby the chance to overtake, but in the end it only counted who crossed the line first, right?

"I want a revenge." Sam said, already maneuvering his car into position for the next race.

Bobby was about to do the same when he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. When he looked up he found Dean leaning on the balustrade, looking down at them with an expression he couldn't quite read and it was gone the second Dean became aware that he'd been spotted.

Dean looked still tired but he seemed more awake now.

Grinning he came down the stairs and grabbed the car sitting on the side table.

"Mind if I join in?" Dean asked, startling Sam who hadn't noticed him before.

"Dammit, Dean." Sam cussed but made room for his car at the starting line. "I'm going to kick your ass for that."

"You can try." Dean got his car in position.

As expected Dean took the lead immediately, Sam hot on his tail. What Bobby didn't expect was that Sam deliberately crashed into Dean's car, sending them both off the track.

"That's cheating." Dean yelled while Bobby finished the race.

"It's not. Bobby won fair and square."

"This doesn't count."

"You're just a sore loser."

"I'm not."

"You are."

"I'm not." Dean pointed with his finger at Sam. "We do this again. And no cheating this time."

"I didn't cheat."

"You did."

"It was an accident."

"Which you did on purpose."

"I didn't."

"You did."

"I did not."

Bobby just shook his head, muttering _idjits_ under his breath.


	13. Chapter 13

Monday morning Sam left for work as usual which gave Bobby and Dean some time alone. Over the weekend Bobby had gotten to know Sam better and by now he had to say that he actually liked him. It was hard to believe that this was the same man who had held Dean prisoner for months. Bobby would never forget that fact, he couldn't, but by now it wasn't the first thing on his mind anymore when he thought about Sam.

Dean had a car to finish so after breakfast Bobby followed him downstairs. There wasn't much Bobby could help him with so for a while he just leaned against the workbench Dean wasn't using at that time and watched him working on the car.

Dean was too focused on adding lime green highlights to the metallic black paint to talk much and most of the time he was so absorbed in his work that he forgot that he wasn't alone. Which was okay with Bobby, he could just watch him work for hours.

There had been times when Bobby had been worried that Dean would stay a drifter with no home, no job and no life until his luck finally ran out and he ended up bleeding out in a back alley. That he would die all alone and nobody would even notice or care.

But now Dean had a home, a job he was passionate about and a partner he loved. Bobby still hadn't figured out why it had to be Sam and not somebody, anybody, else but for the first time in a really long time Bobby saw Dean happy.

When Dean was done with the paintwork, he set the car aside to dry. It was different than the ones upstairs, Bobby noticed. The others were more ornamented, had more details, while this one had clear lines, sleek but almost cold.

"Did the customer choose the design?" Bobby asked when he had a closer look at the finished car.

"Partly." Dean cleaned his hands with a rag before put the equipment away. "He wanted something like a sports car but more badass."

"I'd say you nailed it." Bobby said. The green highlights were nothing more than simple lines and spots but it still made him think of fangs and venom.

"Thanks." Dean hurried to turn away but Bobby caught the blush he was trying to hide. Growing up with nothing but harsh words Dean had never learned to take a compliment. Another thing to blame John for.

"Ready for some hard work?" Dean changed the topic and then led the way out of his workplace to the unused part of the basement. "Barney is going to come over on Wednesday to take out all the stuff I want to get rid of but I haven't sorted through everything yet."

There already was quite a pile of old stuff in the big hall just waiting to get taken out but the basement was huge and some parts looked like they hadn't been touched since the factory shut down in the seventies.

The next hours Dean and Bobby went through old junk. Bobby's job mainly was to carry heavy things out to the growing pile in the hall while Dean decided what to keep and what to throw out. Some things like parts of machines and large steel beams, wherever those came from, they had to carry together and the really big parts they left for Wednesday when Barney and Sam would be there too. Bobby had seen how easily Barney hauled heavy stuff around and Dean assured him that Sam had some muscles as well. Together they would get everything out.

Around noon they took a break and went upstairs for a quick lunch. They were far from being done and Bobby just knew that he would feel his back in the morning. But for now he just enjoyed Dean's company.

"Thanks for helping me." Dean said and set a plate with sandwiches on the table. "I wanted to do most of this over the weekend but … yeah." He shrugged and took a bite off his sandwich.

"But you're feeling better now?" Bobby asked. Sleeping it off seemed to have done the trick but with Dean he never knew. That boy liked to hide his injuries.

"I'm fine." Dean assured him around a mouth full of half-chewed sandwich. "It was just a bit much lately."

Bobby got the feeling that he was referring to something specific and not just the general stress he had with the cars, the upcoming open door day and Bobby's visit.

_Maybe it's the tension between me and Sam,_ Bobby thought but didn't ask.

After lunch they went back to work.

They were so engrossed in their work that they didn't notice the car coming down the driveway until somebody called out to them.

"Hello?" A man's voice asked. "Anybody here?"

The last bit had to be just a phrase given the noise Bobby and Dean were making. Bobby glanced at Dean who shook his head slightly, indication that he had no idea who their visitor was either.

"Coming." Dean called back and dropped the box full of copper wire in the to-keep-corner.

Curious Bobby followed Dean to the front where a tall man stood in the open gate. He was black and bald and wearing an attitude that screamed cop.

Bobby could tell the second Dean noticed the latter. There was a slight shift in Dean's posture, he became more guarded, more wary. Bobby saw it because he knew Dean and the life he'd lived. Cops had never been Dean's friends. How he'd become friends with Benny was a mystery Bobby hadn't solved yet.

If the cop noticed, Bobby couldn't tell.

"Detective Henriksen." The man introduced himself with a professional smile.

"What can I do for you, Detective?" Dean asked. He didn't invite the man in and was more or less blocking the way.

The detective's smile didn't falter while he looked something up in his notepad.

"I'm looking for Dean Winchester and Robert Singer." He read the names and then looked at the men in front of him expectantly.

"You found them." Dean said and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Did something happen to Sam?" Bobby stepped up to Dean, standing now shoulder to shoulder with him. Why Dean's mind hadn't jumped to Sam immediately he didn't know but that was the only explanation Bobby could think of why a cop would pay them a visit.

The man blinked at him as if he hadn't thought that his unannounced visit could imply such a thing.

"As far as I know, nothing happened Mr. Campbell." He answered stiffly. "But I do have a few question about him. May I come in?" He had a meaningful look around and usually this would be the moment where he would add "The neighbors don't need to hear this.", Bobby guessed. But there was just the empty yard with the concrete fence around it and the next neighbor at least a mile away.

Dean let him in anyway.

The ride in the elevator was the most uncomfortable one of Bobby's life and he still had no idea what this was all about. Sam, obviously, but that didn't say much. Thinking about it, this was probably the biased cop who had given Sam a hard time the other day so this was most likely about the murder and not the human trafficking thing Sam had also been involved with.

They stepped out of the elevator and the cop had a look around. Bobby tried to see the loft with his eyes but as far as he could tell there was nothing compromising lying around. Not that there had ever been.

It reminded Bobby of how he'd looked around the loft for the first time, searching for a proof of how evil Sam was. He wasn't sure how he felt about that now.

"Nice place." Detective Henriksen said and didn't let on about what he was thinking.

When Dean failed to say something to that or to even offer the man a seat, Bobby jumped in.

"Take a seat, Detective." He gestured at the nearest chair. "Can I offer you something? Coffee? Water?"

"Coffee, please."

Bobby basically had to push Dean towards the kitchen to make the coffee.

"So." The detective said when Bobby took a seat next to him. "I'm guessing you're Robert Singer."

"That's right, sir." Bobby answered.

"In what kind of relationship are you with Samuel Campbell?" Detective Henriksen had his notepad out again, pen resting on the paper.

"Dean is like a son to me." Bobby said carefully, not sure how to phrase it without giving away Dean's backstory. "Sam is his boyfriend."

"Since when do you know him?" The detective asked without batting an eye at the boyfriend part. If this really was the same man who had interviewed Sam before, he didn't show what he thought about the gay relationship. Or he'd just been yanking Sam's chain before.

"Only a few weeks. This is the first time I visit them." Bobby answered truthfully.

"Your coffee, sir." Dean cut in, setting the cup on the table in front of the detective with enough force to almost spill it. "I don't see why this is important."

"I just want to know more about Mr. Campbell."

"You want to know if he murdered that man the other day." Dean came to the point.

"Did he?"

"No." Dean met his eyes.

Henriksen hmmed to himself and skimmed through his notepad. "Mr. Campbell named you two as his alibi."

"Sam was with us the whole day." Dean said. "He only left after Benny …" He paused. "After Detective Lafitte called him and asked him to have a look at the crime scene."

"Can you confirm that?" The detective turned to Bobby.

"I was up in my room, reading." Bobby said, thinking back to that evening. "But I had the door open so I heard their voices. I came downstairs when Sam got the phone call."

"Why are you even bothering us with this?" Dean snapped. "You have Sam's statement and your colleague's, how can you even think that he has something to do with this?"

"I don't believe in coincidence, Mr. Winchester." His eyes went cold. "This is the second time in only a few weeks that your _boyfriend_ has been at a crime scene."

Dean just gaped at him.

"It's the second time Sam has been at a crime scene after the crime has happened." Bobby spoke up before Dean found his words. "Detective Lafitte called him and when Sam came to the scene he got attacked by the woman who did it, maybe you should focus on finding her."

"Don't worry, we are looking for her." Henriksen assured him with a fake smile. "But that doesn't mean that we ignore other leads."

"Your lead is that Sam comforted his boyfriend after he shot his father in self-defense?" Bobby raised his eyebrows at him. Two could play this game. "Have you even read the report? Sam hasn't even been there when John broke into my house and tried to murder his own son."

Dean shot him a surprised glance but had his features under control a second later. Bobby only hoped that the detective was too focused on him to notice.

Detective Henriksen had a few more questions but in the end he left without the answers he'd come for.

Before he left, he handed Bobby his card.

"There is something off about Samuel Campbell." He said low enough that Dean wouldn't hear him. "And I think you know that, too."

The detective shook hands with them and then pointed at the card in Bobby's hand.

"Call me if you can think of anything else."


	14. Chapter 14

When Detective Henriksen had left, Bobby felt Dean's eyes on him.

"What?" He asked and put the card in the pocket of his shirt. Dean's gaze followed the movement.

"You didn't tell him that Sam has been there." Dean said and teared his eyes off the card now hidden in the pocket over Bobby's heart. It felt like a stone resting there and Bobby just wanted to rip it apart. But he didn't. He wasn't sure if he'd need it later. Probably not but he wanted to keep that option open for now.

"He doesn't need to know." Bobby shrugged. "Sam had nothing to do with what happened the other day and with John …" He sighed. "I'm glad he was there, that you didn't have to face that bastard alone."

At that Dean swallowed thickly and hastily turned away. Bobby gave him a wordless pat on the shoulder.

They didn't go back to work, neither of them was in the mood anymore, so they went upstairs to get out of their dirty clothes and to wash away the grime and dust.

After his shower Bobby stood alone in his room, the card in hand again. It was just the official card the police department handed out. It had the detective's name on it and what Bobby assumed was his desk phone number.

Sam had nothing to do with the murder but he was involved in human trafficking. Somehow. At least enough to know where to buy a person and to be deemed trustworthy enough to actually get one. And there was Detective Lafitte who also knew about this but had turned a blind eye on the whole thing. If just for money or if he was farther involved Bobby didn't know.

Bobby could call Detective Henriksen. He didn't have any proof and he was pretty sure that Dean and Sam would deny everything but he had the feeling that Henriksen wouldn't need proof to at least have a look at the case. If Bobby was right, the detective was a bloodhound. He already wanted to sink his teeth in Sam, all he needed was a reason.

Bobby left the card on the nightstand and went downstairs.

He found Dean busy in the kitchen, the air already heavy with delicious smells.

"Chop the onions, would you?" Dean shoved a cutting board with already peeled onions at him along with a knife and a bottle of beer.

"Sure." Bobby opened the beer first and took a gulp. Dean raised his own bottle at him before he went back to grinding something in the mortar.

"What are you making?" He picked up the knife to start with the onions. He couldn't see what was already in the pot and the things lying around were just basics used for almost every dish.

"Chili." Dean answered, stirring what had to be the meat in the pot. "And I need those onions next so start chopping."

"Hold your horses, boy." Just to tease him Bobby took another sip of beer before he went back to chopping.

They worked side by side, filling the silence with stupid little stories. Dean talked about his customers and their sometimes silly requests and in return Bobby told him about what was going on in Sioux Falls. Dean had never been that social but somehow he still knew a lot of people there and liked to hear about them. Bobby wasn't big on gossip himself but he tried to keep Dean up to date and if it was only to assure Dean that he still had a home he could come back to. Not that he needed that anymore. He had made himself a new home with Sam.

Naturally the conversation looped back to the upcoming open door day.

"Are you going to stay for that?" Dean asked with hope in his voice. By now the chili was mostly done and just had to simmer for a while. They moved over to sit on the couch with a fresh beer in hand.

"I can't leave the salvage yard for too long." Bobby said after a long moment. "I'd like to stay but …" He made a helpless gesture. Dean just nodded to that.

"But I want pictures." Bobby pointed with his bottle at Dean. "And if you really decide to turn that hall into a showroom, call me. I'll help you with the remodeling."

"You would?" It hurt Bobby's heart to hear that shy voice. As if Dean couldn't believe that Bobby would come and help him with that. Bobby was still waiting for the day that Dean realized that he had people who cared for him. And that he deserved their love.

_Maybe with Sam_ , Bobby thought and wasn't sure if he liked that thought or not. He did like it more than a few days ago so that was something, right?

"Of course, son." Bobby assured him. "Just give me a call."

By the time Sam came home from work, the chili was ready and they sat down to eat. Sam told them about his day and the conversation was funny and lighthearted until Sam asked what Dean and Bobby had been doing all day.

"Got some stuff done in the basement." Dean answered vaguely. For a second Bobby wasn't sure if he would mention the detective at all. And if not if he expected Bobby to fill in that little detail but then Dean said: "And that cop swung by."

"Cop?" Sam paused with his spoon half-way up to his mouth. "What cop?"

"Detective Henriksen." Bobby said. "I think you know him."

Now Sam groaned. "What was he doing here?"

"Wanted to check your alibi." Dean said and Bobby added: "And he asked about John."

"What has John to do with this?"

"You rubbed him the wrong way and now he wants to stick something on you." Dean pushed his empty bowl away with an angry huff. "Guy thinks you're some kind of serial killer."

"What did you tell him?" The question was directed at both of them but Bobby felt the focus on him. They all knew that Dean wouldn't just rat Sam out, however, Sam had reason to think that Bobby might.

"The truth." Dean leaned back in his chair. "That Benny called you to have a look at the scene. And Bobby told him to read the report for the other thing. It clearly says that you haven't been there when John …" He couldn't finish the sentence and tried to hide it behind a nonchalant shrug and a sip of beer. Sam shifted a little and Bobby was sure that his hand was now on Dean's thigh.

"You did?" Sam turned to Bobby. "Why?"

"Because you didn't do something wrong there." Bobby answered. "You helped Dean, I'm not going to throw you under the bus for that."

They fell into an uncomfortable silence and Bobby just waited for Dean to mention the card the detective had left. Which he didn't.

After dinner they settled down in front of the TV to kill the evening with some mindless shows. Sam and Dean took the couch, sitting close together.

Bobby just rolled his eyes and took a chair.

They ended up on a CSI rerun and it didn't take long for them to start taking apart the stupidity of that show. Sam with his knowledge of the law was the first to point out that even if they caught the guy, which they would the bad guys never got away in this kind of show, the case would never hold on court and the guy would just walk away.

Dean and Bobby were right behind him, pointing out how common sense and thinking over his actions for two seconds would have prevented the guy from getting caught in the first place.

In the end they agreed that the guy deserved getting caught and that the whole team should be fired for incompetence.

The next two episodes weren't much better but it was fun. At one point Bobby just sat back with his beer in hand, watching the boys bickering over a silly little detail.

Dean was so at ease. He laughed openly and nudged his shoulder into Sam's to emphasize his words and Sam just shoved back in a playful manor. There was no hesitation in Dean's behavior, no fear. Bobby couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Dean like this. And he knew who deserved credit for that.

With a smile Bobby finished his beer and when the credits rolled, he excused himself and went upstairs.

Then he lay in his bed but sleep didn't come.

Even through the closed door Bobby still heard the TV and the soft murmur of Sam and Dean's voices. At some point the TV went silent and they just talked but it was too low for Bobby to understand the words.

Just before he drifted off to sleep he thought that the tone had changed to something more serious but he was too tired to really care about that.

Bobby woke up early. The loft was quiet and he didn't want to leave the warm bed just yet. When he checked the time his eyes fell on the card next to the alarm clock.

He picked it up and read it again. Just one phone call, that was all it would take to bring down the detective on Sam. Bobby wasn't sure if it would actually lead to something but for sure it would be enough to destroy Sam's life. Rumors alone would break his neck.

A week ago he wouldn't have hesitated. Now he couldn't stop thinking about the way Sam and Dean looked at each other.

When he heard noises coming from the other bedroom, indicating that at least Sam was up to get ready for work, Bobby got out of bed as well.

By the time Bobby came downstairs Sam was already nursing his coffee without seeming to be actually awake. But as soon as he noticed Bobby, he poured him a generous mug as well.

"You're up early." He commented.

"Couldn't sleep." Bobby accepted the mug and took a seat. "The detective left this." He put the card on the table so that Sam could read it. Not that he really needed to, Bobby was pretty sure that the serious talk he'd heard right before sleep last night had been about this little piece of paper.

"Told me to call if I could think of anything else." Bobby explained nevertheless.

Sam studied the card for a long moment, fingers tight around his mug.

"Are you going to call him?" He asked, eyes still fixed on the card.

"What you did to Dean was wrong." Bobby said. "I think you know that."

Sam gave him a sharp nod but didn't say a word in his defense.

"However, I've seen you two together." He picked up the card again, holding it between the fingers of both hands. "You made a mistake, an unforgivable mistake and you know it. What you did to Dean …" Bobby shook his head, he still didn't have words for it.

"I know."

"But you make Dean happy. He loves you." Bobby continued.

"And I love him." It was the truth. It was obvious as soon as Bobby allowed himself to see.

"You're not like John. You're not a monster." With one harsh jerk Bobby ripped the card in half. "But if you ever harm Dean like that ever again, I'm going to kill you myself."

Now Sam looked up to meet his eyes. Relief was clearly written all over his face and his eyes were suspiciously shiny but there was a steel undertone in that gaze as well. For a second Bobby felt like the tables were turned, like he was the one at Sam's mercy but then Sam smiled and the moment was over before he could make sense out of it.

"Thank you, sir."


	15. Chapter 15

Bobby half expected Detective Henriksen to come back and bother them again but he didn't. He thought he saw the man sitting in a parked car when he and Dean drove into town for some groceries but when they came back the car was gone. Bobby wasn't worried, even if the detective had a hunch, the cases he was focused on he couldn't stick on Sam because Sam hadn't done anything wrong there and in both cases he had cops backing up his story.

The only way the detective could cause any trouble would be if Bobby sicced him on Sam and he was past that.

However, Bobby needed to go home at some point but he stayed for the clean-out on Wednesday, Dean could use every hand getting all the old stuff out of the basement.

Sam went to work like usual that day but promised to be back around one in the afternoon to help with the heavy lifting.

Dean and Bobby took their time eating breakfast and nursing their coffees, they had finished everything they could do beforehand yesterday and were now waiting for Barney to bring his truck. Which he did around eight.

Dean went to help him navigate the truck backwards down the driveway so it would be easier to load.

When the truck was in position, Barney killed the engine and opened the door to get out of the cab. Bobby had forgotten how big the man was. For a second he thought that Barney would get stuck in the door but the man unfolded himself with practiced ease.

"Hey, Barney." Dean shook hands with the mountain of a man and reached up to give him a pat on the shoulder. "You remember Bobby?"

They shook hands as well and then Dean led them inside.

When Barney saw the hall they had stuffed with junk over the last few days he made a guttural sound deep in his throat.

"You weren't kidding." He said, hands in the pockets of his dirty work overall, taking in the sight in front of him.

"Nope." Dean let the word pop. "Sam is going to join us later for the heavy lifting but I think we can keep ourselves busy until then." He gestured at the far corner where Bobby knew some of the old machines were hidden under a pile of junk. "Some pieces are too big to fit through the door, we have to cut them up first."

Barney nodded to that and rounded the nearest pile with a calculating look on his face. Dean and Bobby had tried to keep some kind of order but in the end they had just thrown everything on top where they thought it wouldn't come rushing back down immediately. They had managed to keep a free path along the wall, connecting the doors, though.

"Let's get the smaller stuff out of the way first." Barney decided and grabbed a bundle of metal pipes.

For the next few hours Bobby picked up a box or an armload of scrap, carried it outside, threw it on the bed of the truck and went back inside to get more. Rinse and repeat.

He was older than Dean so he didn't feel too bad when he wasn't as fast as the younger man or when he took a break once in a while by climbing into the truck to push the stuff to the back and pile it there.

However, Barney took the cake. Like a machine he carried box after box outside, some of them piled high enough that he could barely see where he was going. Or he carried three steel beams on his shoulder as if they weighted nothing.

"What did your mother feed you as a baby?" Bobby wondered when Barney lifted the work bench he and Dean had carried out up on the truck all by himself.

Barney didn't answer but there was this smile tugging on his lips again.

By the time noon came around Bobby's back ached and his knees protested with every step and he had to admit that he wasn't as young as he used to be anymore. So while Dean and Barney kept on working Bobby went upstairs to make them sandwiches for lunch.

The weather was nice so they ate outside. Dean and Barney sat on the edge of the truck bed, with the plate of sandwiches between them and legs dangling. Or in Barney's case tips of his work boots almost toughing the ground. Bobby handed out a round of beer and then sat down on an old drawer.

Of course that was the moment Sam came home.

"And I thought you were working." He teased and snagged a sandwich from the plate. In his neat suit he looked out of place but he had no qualms kissing Dean on the dirty cheek before he took a bite off his sandwich.

"Careful." Barney grumbled around half his sandwich.

"Don't worry." Dean reached for his bottle of beer. "I'm still recovering from last time."

Barney coughed and almost choked while Dean just smirked. Once again Bobby felt like an outsider but that was okay. It was good to see that Dean had people now he shared inside jokes with.

Sam went inside to change into work clothes while the men outside enjoyed their break with a lazy beer. Bobby knew it would be hard to go back to work after the break but there was still a lot to do.

By now they had the truck bed full with the smaller stuff so after their break Dean offered to drive the truck over to Barney's scrap yard to get rid of the first load. It would be at least three more, Bobby guessed.

While Dean was gone, Sam and Barney carried out a few of the bigger pieces and Bobby could only shake his head at that sight. Sam packed some muscles under that business look of his. Together the two men moved some pieces Bobby had worried they would have to cut up as well.

When Dean came back with the truck, he jumped out of the cab and walked around the truck but when he caught sight of Sam he froze and just gaped.

Sam hadn't noticed him because he was busy putting something on the ground without losing a toe or a finger. His ripped jeans and the wifebeater showed off his muscles quite nicely and the bare shoulders and arms were a sight to see, Bobby had to admit. Judging by the look on Dean's face he liked the sweaty and greasy look.

"Should we give them some time alone?" Barney said in a low enough rumble that only Bobby could hear him.

"If we let them get their hands on each other, we won't see them again until tomorrow." Bobby pointed out. "You really want that?"

There was that almost smile again and Bobby couldn't help but smile back.

"Dean!" Bobby yelled. "We all know you like that piece of ass but how about you move your ass now? We have work to do."

"I … I didn't …" Dean stammered, face bright red while Sam who had been oblivious to all the people ogling his butt swirled around. He looked embarrassed as well but the glance he threw Dean said clearly that he had some ideas of what he'd like to do to Dean now if it hadn't been for the audience. Which resulted in an even deeper blush on both of their faces.

"Good one." Barney gave Bobby a friendly pat on the shoulder.

They went back to work and now it was time to get the cutting torch out. Barney knew what he was doing with the torch and he was cutting off pieces almost faster than the others could carry them out. If Bobby didn't know better he would have said that he cheated and sometimes just ripped chunks off with his bare hands. Which of course was impossible.

Dean had to make the trip to the salvage yard three more times and it was a tight fit the fourth time but they managed to stuff everything in the last load.

It was long dark when they finally stood in the empty hall, dust slowly settling and all of them tired to the bone.

They hadn't eaten much over the day so they ordered pizza which they ate sitting on crates in the middle of what they had accomplished. Bobby had never thought that an empty room could feel this satisfying.

Bobby almost fell asleep chewing on his slice of pizza and at least Dean looked the same. Barney and Sam did look tired as well but not exhausted to the bone, it wasn't fair.

When Barney had left with the last load of scrap, they tied off their boots and took the elevator upstairs. Bobby had never been this glad to not have to climb the stairs in his life. However, there was another set of stairs leading up to the shower and his bed. He was tempted to just collapse on the couch but Sam would probably kill him if he ruined his couch.

Bobby had no idea how he made his way up the stairs but then he stood in the bathroom and peeled off his dirty clothes before he stepped into the shower. It took quite some time before the water around his feet wasn't gray anymore and two more scrubs before he felt clean again.

He crawled under the covers of his bed and was asleep a second later.

The next morning Bobby woke up stiff and sore. He came up to sitting at the edge of the bed with a groan and wondered if this was what it felt like to be eighty. He took another shower just to loosen up the tense muscles and then went downstairs in search for breakfast.

Dean was already puttering around in the kitchen.

"Sam still sleeping?" Bobby asked and poured himself some coffee.

"He should be down in a few." Dean answered without taking his eyes off the bacon in the pan. The smell alone made Bobby's stomach grumble.

San joined them just in time, he hadn't even sat down before he had a full plate in front of him.

Dean had made bigger portions than usual, big heaps of scrambled eggs topped with stripes of bacon and what felt like a whole package of toast.

"Eat up, there's more." Dean encouraged them before he dug in himself.

"How many people do you expect?" Sam eyed the still full pan with eggs and the other one with sizzling bacon.

"We burned some calories yesterday." Dean shrugged and shoveled more eggs into his mouth.

They ate in silence for a while and Bobby wasn't surprised when all of them cleared their plates. Dean even helped himself to a second one.

"You sure you want to leave today?" Sam asked when they had slowed down, picking the last crumbs off their plates. Bobby felt pleasantly full and not at all like moving let alone driving.

"You can stay for a few more days." Dean said and Bobby knew he meant it.

"I have a business to run." Bobby took a sip of his coffee, maybe that would help to put his stomach at ease.

"Our door is always open for you." Sam said.

"I know, thank you." Bobby sat up straighter. "Same for you two, don't be strangers."

Bobby had most of his stuff already packed and far too soon he was ready to leave.

He had dreaded this moment. When he'd come here he had been sure he knew Sam and that he would leave with the same feeling in his stomach he knew way too well from every time John had taken Dean with him again.

But Sam wasn't what he had expected. Dean was happy here.

So Bobby said his goodbyes and made Dean promise to take pictures of the open door day and then he got in the car.

The whole time he drove down the driveway, Bobby had his eyes on the rear view mirror, watching the two men standing in front of the old building they'd made their home.

Bobby left with a good feeling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all folks. Thanks to all of you who have joined me on this journey, you're awesome.  
> 


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